True Story
by javachip16
Summary: Clary Fray is lost. She has forgotten the two who loved her, but when the mysterious characters from her nightmares come to life, will she find her answers? begins with a catalyst fight with her parents. AU clary x jace and clary x sebastian rated M
1. Chapter 1

I don't believe in "happy" anymore. I used to . . . before everything went wrong. Everything is not "okay".

It was Christmas day, and as I came home from Simon's house, I was feeling a hollowness that I couldn't particularly identify yesterday. He came by to drop off his Christmas present, and I mine, since I've been grounded lately.

I did the stupid teenage thing, lied about where I was, scared the living crap out of my parents, Luke – my stepfather - flipped out more than imaginable...and I ended up having to spend all of winter break on house arrest, for lack of a better term. The irony of the whole thing was that Simon was who I was supposed to see that night anyway, but I got sidetracked and was gone for four hours, without anyone knowing where I was. Now this was the catalyst for my whole disaster.

Simon, the boy who knew my every thought and more, sensed something was wrong with me while I was at his house. He dragged me in, and made me plop down onto his couch without a word. His room smelled like warm cider with the added overwhelming aroma of an apple scented Bath and Body Works candle that his girlfriend demanded be lit at all times. She thought it was "sexy."

Being the perfect family that they are, Simon's mom had orchestrated a perfect family gathering – shiny silverware, matching napkins and china, a plethora of smiling family members gathering around the table they all set together. I'd seen this a million times, spending several lovely evenings with them myself – but that night I was due home. My mother had grown increasingly overprotective lately, and it was driving me insane. I had to be monitored at all times of the day, like a prisoner.

Simon's irritating girlfriend Maia was at the party of course, and gave me a rude once over as I entered the room, seething in clear annoyance that I was once again present in his home. Maia was just like Simon's father in so many ways, impulsive, volatile, and judging... and the only thing that kept me from despising her as equally as she did me was the simple fact that she loved Simon, even if his feelings sometimes swerved toward other people. It was unconditional. And – it was unrequited... But that is a story in itself.

Maia sneered at my sweatpants and winter jacket attire, which was completely out of place in the overall atmosphere of the fancy charade Simon's family had established for the holiday and asked, "Well, are you staying here long?"

"Nope," I sighed, "I'm going home in a minute. Don't worry." I looked at Simon wistfully, "Besides I've got my own family party to go to."

"You could stay Clary," Simon offered. "You know you have a home here, with me, whenever."

"Yeah Kiddo, I know." I smiled "But luke and mom aren't letting me out for more than an hour a day. I don't know what their so afraid of. . . " I made my way to ward the exit before Maia decided to kill me. Simon gave me a reassuring hug on the way out.

My family was a mess. I have two siblings, ridiculously young kids, who torture my sanity as well as my mothers on a daily basis, but it's not their fault. They are kids. The thing that's a mess is – above all else – the mind numbing routine that follows dealing with kids that young in our financial situation. I don't really know why we were in so much debt, but sometimes I heard my parents talking about hospital bills . . . though my step dad, Luke, worked at one.

Mom stays at home most days of the week, washing the kids, feeding the kids, dealing with kids, yelling at kids, kids _kids kids kids_. Luke, who isn't really my biological father, works 5 jobs at a time, at several different hospitals and deals with more stress than the average man should be able to take. I don't know how he can live, working 36 hours straight in one hospital, coming home to nap for 2 hours, dealing with kids, going to another hospital working a 45 hour shift, studying god-knows-what material to be the best doctor in the facility – then coming home to sleep again. So how does he deal? Alcohol. Cigarettes. And yelling.

All mom ever does is slowly depreciate herself, while the children scream at kick at each other on a daily basis, and all "dad" can do is nap, drink, smoke, and yell.

I was filled with a hollow jealousy walking home that day. I wanted to have a family dinner, at a specific time of the day, with shiny silverware and a happy atmosphere. I wanted Luke to work normal hours, sleep at regular intervals, and I wanted my mother to let me live my life, to feel less confined in my own home.

More than anything, I wanted to get out of the financial mess we were in – at that everything would be okay again at home. But it wasn't and it was never going to be – despite my fathers empty promises years ago that once he finished his Fellowship at the hospital and started earning money it would get easier. We weren't poor – but the family was at each other's throats like savages all the time and I hated it.

I wanted to fix myself – just as much as I wanted freedom. I had lied to my parents, just because it felt good to get away with something and finally be gone from the everyday nonsense and noise. I was selfish; immature and irresponsible. I could be volatile, and sometimes, and myself staring out of the windows, thinking _I should run away. There is something waiting out there, something better._

So I ran. I lied and I walked the streets of Brooklyn, searching for **something **anything, that took me away from the life I lead at home. After what I've done, its no wonder Luke doesn't trust me, and what's worse is I used my mother as an excuse for my actions because I knew that she was just like me; Twisted and desperate to be noticed. And I hated myself as much as I hated the way my family worked.

I wanted to be happy. I wanted _us_ to be happy.

A few hours later, as my family was gathering in our now-clean town house, I sat, brooding. It was one of those days I wanted to run again. Enter Luke, eyes bloodshot from not sleeping and stressing at work, seething in contempt and hate for his own life as he wobbled toward the liquor cabinet, and poured himself his sixth shot of the evening.

My mother, Jocelyn, walked into the kitchen and startled me out of my trance.

"Where the Hell have you been?" she practically screamed, not really caring we had guests over. She took me harshly by the arm and led me to the stairway, dropping me like luggage.

"Simons." I managed. "What mom, what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is you didn't tell me where you were going, and you didn't call me back." She started pacing, "Clary you were gone **again, **do you have any idea how worried I was, you could have been hurt!"

"I'm not a child!" I snapped. "I am going to be 18 in one freaking year, so please, treat me like it. God, I can take care of myself, and you are overreacting. _WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF_?"

"I am your mother." Her eyes burned holes. "And you have to listen to me. Clary you are so naive, so impulsive, so stupid . . ."

"You're my mother? And whose fault is that?" I retorted. "Look, mom, I didn't do anything wrong, and I don't understand why you and Luke shelter me so much. I am never allowed to go out, I have to check in all the time...what am I going to do about college hmm? I understand that you were worried but I was honestly. With. Simon."

"Are you lying to me Clary?" She hissed. "Are you lying again? Because you know I can't trust you – not after what you have done."

"God, I just messed up, like a normal fucking kid mom! You've screwed up in your life too...marrying that slob. He's an alcoholic like your father was... God, he's so vile sometimes, I mean with the noise and the fighting, people probably think this family is insane."

"You hate this family that much Clary?" She stammered. This was the closest my mother had ever come to tears, but I didn't relent.

"I hate you and Luke so much sometimes, I can't stand it." Mom just stared at me. Jocelyn Fray looked at her daughter as though she had never seen her before, like she was seeing a stranger. She gasped a breath and left the room. And with that, I sank to my knees.

I went into the kitchen and did dishes, hands shaking tears pouring, but I didn't care. I don't remember much - I lost all feeling. Luke walked in and told me to go upstairs but I refused. I wanted to do the only thing I was good for. I wanted to do the dishes. He tried to pry me from the dishwasher, but I clung to the plastic and glass silently begging him to hit me. I wanted him to let his anger out; I wanted to be punished. Maybe physical pain would make the emotional screaming pain of pushing my parents away lessen. He didn't hit me. Instead he screamed my name and tried to take the dishes away, and together we broke two wine glasses in the sink. The noise started it.

I ended up telling him how much I hated what this family has become. I told him he was an alcoholic and bipolar and that mom was losing her mind staying at home, and that I hated having little siblings and having everyone mad at me, and that I just wanted to be normal.

"What the hell is normal to you Clary?" he screeched.

"Not fucking this!" I cried, my torso shaking and breath sputtering as I spoke through sobs. I was about to fall to my knees.

"I want to have a dad who doesn't hate his life, doesn't drink whiskey like water, I want a mother who doesn't stay at home losing her mind all the time, I want to have dinner together like a normal family – I want a family that will listen to me and won't expect me to be perfect because I'm snapping and we're all just so ridiculous. The way you shelter me - we are chaos. This," I gestured to myself and him, standing wide eyed in front of the machine, "this is not okay..."

I cried out of anger, out of pain, I don't know really. But Luke ended up holding me and telling me something unintelligible in my ear softly, sounding something like a muffled apology. I knew that wasn't what it was.

I went upstairs than, and cried for 10 more minutes, when I heard more dishes break. Something in me broke as well, and I made my way down the narrow hall back into the kitchen and sank to my knees before Luke, as he picked up the broken ceramic plate. The dishwasher broke somehow through all this, so I stood without a word and began washing everything manually, drying and putting things away as dad worked on the machine beside me. Mom came down, silently, and began fixing the broken machine as well, none of us making eye contact or speaking.

It was an odd moment in my life. We worked together, each of us lost in our minds, trying desperately to fix this one small thing. Maybe fixing the machine would be a start to fixing us, fixing this.

I washed everything. It took an hour at the least, and eventually my parents went upstairs without a word. I remained in the kitchen until past 2 in the morning, scrubbing, rinsing, drying, putting things away, not thinking. Sometimes I cried. The dishwasher wasn't fixable.

I guess we aren't either. Merry Christmas.

"What now?" Simon said, trying to find the words, as I did nothing but breathe into the receiver of the house phone. I had already had my cell phone taken away and lost all computer privileges that week, but now I was just going on stolen time.

"I don't really know Kiddo," I said eventually. My voice was harsh, scratchy. "I can't stay home tonight I know that much. It's been two days and no one has even looked at me. I'm going on autopilot through my days – and I can't even see you because I'm stuck home."

"You are always welcome to run away and stay with me" he suggested.

"Hilarious, you know that's the first place they'll look for me" I snapped.

"I'll hide you in the laundry basket." He said this with an odd amount of confidence, as though this plan was actually plausible and not as ridiculous as it sounded.

"Simon, that's sweet...stupid...but sweet nonetheless..." I chuckled slightly as I said this, imagining hiding in his closet like his secret girlfriend. Uh oh bad thoughts.

"You're right," Simon sighed. "besides if the solitude doesn't kill you, the smell of my gym socks will surely be your demise."

"Lovely." I'm smiling despite it all. "Thank you Simon."

"Always Clary." His tone is different now. All jokes and teasing gone – just raw tender caring. My eyes well up again, and the sting of tears for the hundredth time this week tells me I need to escape and do it now. I choke an apology and an excuse and hang up before he can hear me sob.

I'm so tired of crying.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First things first, THANKS to everyone who's read my story so far. I know it's a tad angsty, but because I actually have readers, I'm going to continue it. Thanks Again!**

**DISCLAIMER: these are not my character, sigh, if only...**

Two weeks. 14 days. 336 hours. 20160 minutes... well alright, you get the idea.

That's how long I spent grounded, wallowing in one-word terse conversations with my parents. Mom cooled off a little, but I don't know that she could ever fully forgive me, not after what I've said to her. On the rare occasion that we acknowledged each other, I saw a dim light in her eyes where there usually was a spark.

I missed those days where we could curl up on the couch and watch chick flicks while Luke worked nights. Mom would stock up on chocolate and we'd do manicures, watch a little Buffy the Vampire slayer. I missed Luke too, but the only difference with him these days was that he worked more.

Part of me was so angry, so disgusted with the way he refused to even try and change his drinking habits for me, for _us_. He acted like everything I said didn't matter. I didn't matter to him, and if he refused to act like I existed, I was happier with him gone.

But finally, despite it all, I'd finally made it. Winter break was over at last, and here I was, standing before my closet mirror, practicing my smile like there was nothing wrong.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I had a great winter break thanks for asking."

I grimaced in the floor length mirror. My reflection agreed; that was a pathetic attempt. Alright, deep breath and one more time.

"Hey! My winter break? Oh you know," I swiped at my reflection playfully, "It was great, hung out with the gang, nagged by the parentals, blah blah b-"

"Clary, what in hell are you doing...are you flirting with your mirror?" a voice asked behind me, followed by the sound of a kneecap knocking into the pile of books and laundry. Then came a colorful string of cussing.

Simon stood back up like nothing happened as I turned my back to the mirror, leaving the shell of the girl I used to be behind me in the reflective surface. My hair was the same color red, my eyes just as green, but I had lost too much weight, and my plain blank tank top hung awkwardly.

But that never mattered with Simon. He was my last semblance of normality, and never made me feel different for my situation at home. He felt like home, and right now, while both mom and Lucas were out with the kids, home felt like home once more.

"Hey," I sighed. "I am looking for my dignity. Have you seen it by any chance?"

"No, but did you look under that pile of crap? Because while you're at it, I lost a turtle last year named Bob and he just might be there. "

I rolled my eyes knowing he wasn't done with the monologue, and Simon knowing I was in no mood to talk. Simon had a way with going on in a constant stream of nonsense that would confuse most normal people. The sound was soothing and familiar to me though.

"Not to mention that you may have the entrance to Narnia down there and you'd never know, maybe even ..." he was saying. "Hey! 'Entrance to Narnia' that's not a bad name for the band."

"That's a terrible name for a band," I mumbled, smiling despite my broody façade.

"Alas! She speaks, Oh speak again bright angel!" Simon dramatically swept me into a hug and spun me in a circle for good measure. My smile grew into the laugh that I needed most. Simon was just like that.

"Shut your pie hole Romeo," I giggled.

"That's also a great name for the guys too," Simon added thoughtfully. "Though it is a bit wordy. How about Wednesday's Enchiladas?"

"That's what you had for dinner last night dork."

"Damn," Simon grinned. "You know me too well. Anyway you ready to go my Juliet?"

"Ready as I'll ever be Romeo." I walked past Simon and grabbed my coat, keys, and backpack from the desk he was currently sitting on. I grimaced at my disheveled reflection one last time and set out to the streets of the city.

The familiar sour smell of the sewers and warm popcorn from the vendor swept over me like a welcome. It felt like I'd been released from a cage, I thought, looking over my shoulder as we walked away from my apartment building. Then again, it was only temporary. I was on strict orders to come straight home after school.

As we rounded the entrance of the school building, I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Right beside of the flagpole was Isabelle, my reluctant and blunt friend. Well, "friend" was a loose term, but for some reason, here she was. Isabelle was all long legs, sleek hair, high heels and a snappy attitude.

Practically my opposite.

"Hey Izzy," I blurted out, "How was your break? Simon and I did nothing as per usual so don't bother asking."

"Isabelle laughed. "I wasn't going to ask about you dorks' break I know all you did was watch lame Sci-Fi movies and comment on them."

Simon shot me an irritated look and tried to straighten up his tee shirt, that said, "Made in Brooklyn." Isabelle didn't notice. She never did, unless it was about her or involved a decent sum of money. Isabelle didn't care, and right now, I loved her for it.

"Anyway, I just got back from the Caribbean yesterday, and a week before that I was in Aruba with Daddy," She said. "I was planning on getting some shopping done on fifth avenue last night, but then, of course, people had to step in and ruin my life _again. _"

"What happened?" Simon asked unnecessarily. Izzy was going to tell us whether we listened or commented or not.

Izzy dropped her Coach bag on the desk in first period History dramatically and rolled her heavily mascaraed eyes. "Asshat family visiting."

"Family?" I said, surprised.

"Asshat family" Simon confirmed for me. I slapped his arm.

"Yeah well It's not exactly news, but rumor has it little Clary has fallen off the social-life bandwagon" Izzy sneered. "What did you do to get grounded anyway?"

"Nothing." I murmured, dropping my eyes immediately. I counted thirteen tiles before Isabelle decided she didn't care again.

"Whatever," She offered. "They're enrolled here, so you'll see them at some point today anyway. Alec is showing them the school right now."

"Who?" I asked quietly.

"My cousins," Izzy hissed

"Her asshat cousins," Simon added.

"Hello? Where the hell is your head?" Isabelle asked, her torso twisted to be half facing me.

"Sorry, yeah, " I shook my head to clear it. "Uh, what are their names? Are they in our grade?" Anything... that'll keep my mind of Luke and Mom. Of home, and...

My thoughts stopped entirely when three tall figures entered the class. The first one was an exact replica of my vain friend, her twin brother Alec. He nodded curtly at Izzy and ignored us successfully, but it was the two shadowy men behind him that made me go nonverbal.

One was very pale, with dark eyes and sharp features. He has a tall muscular build and dark hair, some strands falling in his intense eyes. His jaw curved wickedly as he took in his surroundings. He was 'tall dark and handsome' in the flesh.

Where he was darkness, his companion was light. He had a softer face, but the same sharp jaw and nose, and his hair was light blond. His eyes were hazel, and sparkled lightly in humor. He was Adonis in the middle of Brooklyn, and I felt myself slide further into my seat under his angelic smile.

Oh God.

"Sebastian and Jace Wayland." Isabelle swept her arms sarcastically. "More affectionately known as 'the asshats'"

Simon hummed the Adam's family theme song under his breath. Normally, I would have laughed, but nothing in my body was functioning correctly. My pulse screamed in my veins as I watched the brothers, who looked nothing alike, take their seats two rows in front of me.

Once class began, I finally managed to regain bodily function enough to reach for my backpack, and pull out my sketchpad with shaking fingers.I flipped to one of the earlier pages, tattered from use, dated December 26th.

A drawing of two half shadowed figures, one blond and the other dark haired, standing side by side over the city. Their eyes were sharp, inhumanly beautiful, and dangerous. The brother's wings overlapped.

I stared at the portrait of the two figures that have haunted my dreams for weeks.

And now, they had names; Sebastian and Jace.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: **To everyone that reviewed, THANKS! It made my day, and I really needed that, especially after a car accident I just dealt with. You guys rock. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Mortal Instruments, bah.**

I don't remember anything that happened in class. I don't remember getting up from my desk, or how I left the room and got to my Sociology class. The next two hours were blurred. I don't remember anything Isabelle or Simon said in the halls, or even if I was with them.

Every motion was mechanical, like I was a wind up doll, or a marionette puppet; because my mind was reeling.

Sebastian and Jace. _Sebastian and Jace. _Not only were their faces ones I'd seen in my mind for weeks, but their names where somehow familiar.

But...how? Part of me wanted to rationalize that these coincidences were merely that. I sketched a blond angel and a darker, mysterious angel at his side. Light and dark, good and evil, the counterbalance of life. It was an artists' emblem, fundamental and beautiful. And logical.

Any yet, my blond angel had a very specific birthmark on his neck, just below the right side where his collarbone met the arch in his neck. My dark angel had a circular tattoo on his forearm with an eye shaped design in the middle. That same tattoo, I spent an hour staring at from my desk in the back corner of the room.

There was a strange prickling feeling crawling up my spine, a buzzing hum in my ears. Something wasn't right.

Sebastian and Jace sat casually in their seats, both occasionally acknowledging each other in shared mannerisms. Mr. Roberts was highlighting the new semesters plan on the board, as Jace leaned over and said something to Sebastian. The dark haired boy choked a laugh that caught the uptight-underpaid-jaded teachers attention.

The class snickered at whatever was said, and as soon as Mr. Roberts turned away, Sebastian's hand flew up and smacked Jace playfully in the back of the head. His tattoo flexed in the fluorescent lighting like a mocking siren to my sanity.

"She's drooling... eyes are glazing over." Simon's voice said on the way to the cafeteria a few hours later. "Ahem!"

"Huh. What . . . Yeah." I managed, trying to get out of my stupor. I blinked a few times just incase my eyes were – indeed- glazed. I would not have been surprised. "What's up Simon?"

"Clary, now listen- I'm asking this as a concerned friend here alright?" Simon had his hands up defensively for some odd reason; I quirked an eyebrow. "Have you in any way ingested drugs and/or alcohol today? Perhaps shrooms? Cocaine Meth or a combination of all of the above?"

My fist flew up without my having my permission, startling even me with it's force, but Simon caught it brilliantly, grinning all the same. I _wanted_ to hit him, and somehow I knew I could have . . .easily.

My body knew how to do it. His reflexes were a little too good, but I was distracted more by how he knew I would instinctively punch him... Ah – hence the defensive hands. I never considered myself to be a violent person, but his tone set me off. Simon was still grinning sheepishly.

"Good reaction." He seemed very self-satisfied. "She's still in there Izzy, we haven't lost her after all."

"Oh goody" Isabelle called from behind me; sounding bored, but responded nonetheless. She sat opposite of me at the bench table in the right wing of the court, in direct view of the window. I sat here because in the winter, when the snow coated the city, it was my favorite thing to sketch. Simon sat here because he'd probably follow me anywhere. But Isabelle didn't have to. She just...did. Isabelle could have been popular. She chose us.

"How can you tell?" She was asking absently.

"She tried to club me just now," Simon said casually, then added seriously. "Clary's got her right hook..."

Since when, I thought. And why did his sentence sound unfinished, as though there was a "...back..." missing at the end of it? Simon and I had always played around, but something was now nagging at the back of my mind, that hidden buzzing behind my eardrums seemed to be growing. I had never punched anything in my life before. Why would my random outburst seem to prove Simon's point in some way?

"Ah. Well that's good." Izzy sighed and finally looked up from the Cosmo she was reading. Her voice was uninterested, finding nothing odd in anything that had just happened. "We were all waiting for you to have some sort of epileptic fit before you decided to grace us with sanity again."

I grimaced. Nice.

Isabelle crossed her legs and sighed. Again I wondered why she decided to sit with us. Simon and I had been sitting here since we were freshman, and we'd been best friends since, well, as far as I can remember. I never thought about my younger days because they were all the same. School, home, homework, and Simon.

Then this fall, after what I can hardly recall as being more then the average summer, Isabelle, goddess of long legs, came to our podunk little High School. And she just stuck with us as though we were her reluctant but familiar "asshat cousins" rather then Jace and Sebastian. She never offered any personal information about herself, and I never asked.

There was an unspoken bond between us to not ask too many questions about out families. Isabelle and her twin brother Alec had this tension when they spoke, like they were carrying some sort of burden. They took care of each other like adults, though they were both 17. But, I never wanted to think about my home situation, and somehow I think Isabelle would rather spend the tedious moments in school that way as well.

"So what's the plan post-school today?" Simon asked suddenly. "I was thinking I'd come over, and we'd try out kickboxing on your Wii Clary."

I cringed. "Grounded." I said the word like a reminder, but it slipped out as a shaky whisper instead. Simon nodded, and patted my hand in a gesture that said "sorry, say no more." I looked up into his brown eyes gratefully and used my free hand to readjust his glasses.

Simon grinned and caught my hand unexpectedly on his cheek. He just held it there.

"Well isn't that _sweet,_" a deep honey voice said from somewhere to my right. I whirled and almost knocked Simons glasses off entirely. "Isabelle, you really know how to pick the cream of the crop don't you? These are your friends, dear cousin, really?"

Sebastian was leaning against a pole in the right wing, one chiseled arm pressed up against the column, one dark eyebrow arched wickedly as he took in our table. His smile was playful, somehow reminding me of the Cheshire cat in Alice of Wonderland, or something equally devious.

"Although..." he continued, ignoring Isabelle's ferocious expression. "The little red head isn't half bad. Tiny, like a little kitten I would just love to curl up next to. Mmmm, she's like a little delicious strawberry, wouldn't you say brother?"

My choked fury was slightly derailed by the sight of Jace walking around the column, wearing a soft white shirt with rolled up sleeves. I could see his abdomen though the fabric, a little too well.

He's gorgeous, I thought, and so different from Sebastian. They don't seem like brothers...His eyes however, were equally as devious as the dark haired boy. "Delicious," He agreed, though not as mockingly. His eyes roamed my body and I shivered unconsciously. "Sebastian leave the girl alone, I think you, brother, are a bit too much for little red." His voice. It was sarcastic, but not as cruel as his brother's. It was softer, and soothing.

"Oh but I was just having a little fun," Sebastian whined. "I've yet to meet a kitten I couldn't tame. And little red seems like a challenge."

What an arrogant bastard.

"EXCUSE ME." I stood up irrationally, taking three outraged steps toward the brothers. "Who the HELL do you think you are?"

"Sebastian and Jace Wayland, at your service kitten," Sebastian gave a little bow, and I involuntarily skidded backwards to avoid touching him.

"And she's feisty." Sebastian observed, "feisty kitty, meow." He swiped at me with his invisible claws and winked. "Purr, kitty want to play?"

"No Kitty does not, in any way shape of form, want to play!" I stomped a little closer to the darkly dressed boy. I was close enough to see the glint behind his eyelashes, just foot away from his broad chest. "Stop talking about me like I'm a toy, I don't even know you."

"Oh but don't you?" Jace snapped quietly. His eyes were diverted now, looking toward Isabelle, but I had heard him. Isabelle looked horrified, and Simon somehow, scared. My heart plummeted. The picture, did he know?

"What? I...I only just met you. What do you mean?" I said, only to Jace, backing away from Sebastian. Partially because he was very close to me now, and he was no longer playful, but mainly because the energy rolling off of him screamed danger, as though he'd heard Jace too. He'd heard Jace, and it made him livid.

"Nothing" Jace said. "Nothing at all." He said a little louder. There was something there...disappointment? He stood up straighter, towering over my five foot three inches so that I had to look up into his eyes. And they were...whoa. They were flecked with a golden tint I'd never seen before in my life.

The buzzing in my mind grew a little louder now, like something...was tugging at the edges of my consciousness. Had I seen that color before? I...That birthmark on above his collarbone, I could see it. It was...changing shape somehow now. It was a small symbol.

I was moving toward Jace, like gravity was calling me to him. My mind was pulsing and I just . . . I felt the ground give and the air tighten in my atmosphere. The buzzing grew and grew, and everything was so _loud. _ There were so many colors. The room was on a merry go round, my head was screaming. I couldn't stand any more...

And as I swayed, strong warm arms encircled my waist and the buzzing ceased. "I'm Clary," I said through the haze, staring into gold.

Jace met my gaze powerfully. "I know."

Without a word Jace let me go, and stepped back formally, his eyes on his dark brother. There was something being communicated in the deafening silence, something I intuitively realized I didn't want to know.

I looked to Simon for help, for some sort of sign that he was sensing the impalpable aura of chaos I was, but his expression remained clear of anything but confusion. I needed to get out - I needed air, none of this made any sense.

I bolted for the double doors before anyone could stop me, and ran for the corridor that leads outside. It was still too cold for anyone to be eating in the open lunch pavilion, so as I rounded the brick building toward my car, I found myself completely alone.

My hands shook as I tried to wedge my car keys in the door, and I stumbled and dropped them twice. "Come on, come on," I chanted to no one. "Please... Fuck."

The keys ricocheted and rolled under the wheel, and I automatically dropped to my knees to retrieve them. I felt blindly across the surface of the black top, desperate, cold, and still considerably freaked out, when out of nowhere, I heard a sickening _crunch-crack_ noise followed by an inhuman _hiss._

I turned slowly, twisting my neck in an uncomfortable angle and saw...nothing. The parking lot was deserted except for the few cars in the center isle. The only thing unusual about the lot was the frantic red headed girl that stayed crouched behind her red Subaru, listening for imaginary hissing.

"I've completely lost my mind." I began to stand, keys forgotten, when the noise startled me again, only this time it sounded louder, and more menacing. "He – Hello?" I called, immediately feeling stupid for saying the line that usually ended in death in most horror movies.

"Hello." The voice was definitely distorted, raspy, and horrifying. The voice was infinitely more terrifying however, because it didn't come from anything. I was alone. And something was touching my arm now.

I stayed frozen, shutting my eyes and begging it to go away, pleading that this was my imagination, but I knew there was something there. It felt clammy or slimy even, and it was moving, circling me. I couldn't see it, but I could feel its breath on my neck, whispering sick words about what it wanted to do to me, how it was going to kill, kill, kill...

I opened my eyes then, screaming at the top of my lungs and pressing my body as far back into the car as possible, when I felt something lunge. And for a split second, I saw it. Whatever it was had slick green eyes and a humanoid body, but its face was distorted and wrong. The teeth were pointed like needles that stuck out in his snarl.

And when it lunged for my throat, I dropped to my knees and retrieved my keys and thrust them upward at in the same impossibly fast moment, striking it perfectly in it's chest. Both the creature and I froze, looking down at my incision.

And on instinct, I twisted the sharp teeth of the key inside of him, giving off a sickening _crunch_. My heart was speeding, my hands were soaked in goo, and my head began to spin with the painful buzzing noise again.

"Oh god."

That was when the world tilted. The next thing I knew, I was being supported by something heavy and warm, holding me up in both sides. I lifted my head heavily.

"Take it easy" Sebastian said from my left.

"It's okay we've got you Clary," Jace said form my right. "Just breathe."

"I killed it." I sounded small, looking for confirmation.

"That's my girl," Sebastian said, running a free hand through my tangled hair as though he'd done it a thousand times.

"Clary," Jace said, and I turned to him. He smiled briefly, but dropped it as soon as it came. "You, won't remember anything about what you just saw,"

"Why?" I asked weakly.

"Because you are too important to me," he looked at Sebastian quickly and added, "to _us, _and the only way we can keep you out of their sight is if we keep them out of yours. Having knowledge about demons makes you see them, so you have to live as a normal human - ignorant, but safe."

"But...how can you care about me when we just met?" I managed.

"Clar-bear" Sebastian smiled sadly. "We've known you for years, and we'll always be here to keep you safe from them." Then he added to Jace, "Especially, if they can see her now."

"Okay." My eyes were dropping and something strikingly hot was touching my arm, moving in a small design. "Hey Sebastian?"

"Yeah?"

"You can look out for me...without being," I yawned. "An asshat."

I fell asleep to the sound of two, very relieved sounding men, laughing.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wow, I have...reviewers? haha thankyouthankyouthankyou!! I will be responding to reviews soon, but since most of you called for an update, your wish is my command. You guys can ask questions about the plot btw, I'll answer : )**

**K onward my fellow fans**

**Disclaimer: I only WISH I owned mortal instruments **

JACE POV

A Gnarl demon.

Clary, the most innocent, gentle being in my world, kicked a Gnarl demons _ass _not fifteen minutes ago. Aside from the shocking pride I felt for her, my only thought was #%$^???!!

And right this moment, as I watched her curled up on the blacktop, I realized just how much the summer had changed the girl I'd known and always loved.

Her lips were pouted, but always secretive, like Mona Lisa. She had lost the childish quality, her face's softness now shadowed with high cheekbones and a curious arch in her eyebrow. Her skin was flushed, like roses and honey. But the one thing I couldn't see in Clary's sleeping state was the one part of her I would never forget.

Clary still had brilliant Victorian eyes, so intelligent, so intense, like emeralds in the moonlight. She saw everything, and when she looked at you, it was as though she could see though anyone's rough exterior, into your heart. She saw the real _you,_ and she liked what she saw.

"Oh, Clary," I said, relishing that just for the moment, we were alone. "I've missed you." My biggest regret was that I could never find the courage to tell Clary how I felt about her. I was a coward, afraid she would hurt me, and so I would shut her out. It was my fault she and my despicable brother had gotten closer. It was all my fault.

Sebastian had gone in to get the others, and brief them on what had gone down less then 100 yards from where Clary was supposed to be safe. I felt my hands curl when I imagined what could have happened, had Clary not fought back. Some _guardians _they were...

It was time to get her home, to Jocelyn and Luke, to...explain. Great, I thought bitterly, Jocelyn is going to absolutely_ love_ seeing Sebastian and me, virtually the reasons for Clary's nightmares, back in her life. This wasn't going to be pretty.

I bent to scoop Clary up, prepared to carry her to the car when I saw Sebastian walking with two guilty looking companions at his side. Clary felt light in my arms, and she was so warm. Her curves melted perfectly in my arms, like a winding rose that was meant to be there. But I couldn't think about this now...we had business to attend to.

"She okay?" Sebastian asked. "Still unconscious and snoring like a beast I gather?"

I cleared my face of any emotion immediately, even the annoyance at his assumption. Clary didn't snore. And he knew that.

"I am so sorry, when she bolted out of here..." Isabelle cringed under my glare. "She needed space, how was I supposed to know there was something waiting for her? There hasn't been an attack for weeks, it's not-"

"It is completely your fault Isabelle," Sebastian spat. "Clary was to be under your protection when you could be near her. You know Valentine has been looking for her since the accident last summer. She is still in danger, every day."

"And you-" he turned to Simon who had come close enough to stroke Clary's sallow cheek. I didn't stop him, because I knew that look. "You, mundane, were supposed to watch her when Isabelle couldn't, you should have been here."

"There is no point to arguing," I said. "Look we have to get Clary home before she wakes up to her best friend, her personal body guard, and her two...well, _us,_ fighting over the possibility of her getting killed by a demon she wont even remember fighting. So Isabelle, get the car. Now."

She left without a word, heels clanking on the asphalt in her sway. Isabelle Lightwood was a piece of work, but she was right in one respect. Clary should have been safe. Something knew she was here, which meant her monster of a father, Valentine, could know too. We needed Jocelyn.

"Here let me take her," Sebastian said. "I'm stronger, and you and Mundane can get rid of the demon."

"It's fine," I said, unconsciously bringing Clary in closer to my chest. "I've got her."

"No, you _had_ her Jace," Sebastian said, catching the double meaning. "She isn't yours anymore. If you remember correctly little brother, the last time you spoke to her, she was telling you she hated you. And she and I were going to be happy – I didn't keep any secrets from her."

"Sebastian." Mundane stepped closer, "let it go."

"Oh right, Mr. Mundane, we forgot you still thought you had a chance with Clar-bear." Sebastian laughed unabashedly and shoved the human boy lightly. "She's not yours either."

"Nor is she yours," I pointed out to my cocky brother. He scowled at me, but then his face turned to pure determination.

"Not yet." He said simply.

Simon and I both started to retort when a clearly annoyed voice broke in.

"You men. Are. Ridiculous." Isabelle swung the car around and opened the back seat for Clary. "Most girls can barely handle one guy. Clary's got three on her plate and she doesn't even know it. Or...was it four?"

"FOUR?!" Sebastian, the mundane, and I all shouted at the same time. Then we all looked at one another, glaring in jealousy.

"If the testosterone fueled display is over now, can we get going?" Isabelle looked at me pointedly and I lifted Clary into the back of the convertible. "Simon, drive Clary's car home behind us, you guys come with me. Alec will be here in a minute to dispose of the Gnarl"

I was about to sit in the back with Clary when Sebastian took my place, grinning wickedly. I let out a frustrated sigh, and hopped in the car, preparing myself for a reunion that was promised to end in disaster.

*

When Jocelyn Fray saw Isabelle's yellow convertible, followed by Clary's beat up Subaru, she knew...there was going to be hell to pay.

I could feel her fury a mile up the road, and met the mundane's snarky expression with a painful punch in the shoulder. He was enjoying this. Out of the three men in the car, he was the one that Jocelyn favored.

"What, in HELL happened Isabelle?" She screeched. Jocelyn had the same firecracker red hair as her daughter, but she was taller, and more statuesque. She was wearing a long jean skirt and had on black boots, looking just like I remembered her. Beautiful; yet terrifying.

"Jocelyn," Isabelle called lightly, getting out of the vehicle. "Clary's okay, there was another incident, but everything's –"

"Another incid-" She stopped short of a rant when she saw the other people in the car with her daughter. I swore I could see flames ignite in her eyes, white outrage about to explode. Sebastian and I smiled sheepishly and waved.

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING!" was the last thing either of us could understand; her next few phrases were high-pitched screams and growls. "No, no you can't be here. Do you have any idea what it's been like? Clary hates us Jace! She can't ever know who she is, and it's because of you.

"...and you!" she turned to Sebastian. "You only made it worse, you bastards, what are you doing here?!"

"We came to – " Sebastian tried to say, but immediately stopped. Clary was waking, her form shook lightly in the backseat and she groaned. "We need to get her inside and into bed. She'll be waking soon. Jocelyn, please we will explain everything in a moment, but Clary cannot wake to this. Jace drew a rune on her skin to forget the Gnarl and part of what happened at school, but she still might – "

"The GNARL?!" Oh, spectacular move Sebastian, I thought. "Get her inside now Simon."

Simon moved toward Clary, pulling her out of the car gently and carrying her up the stairs to her room. I watched the mundane move; only thinking _that should have been me._

"Now," Jocelyn said in a shockingly calm voice, her shadowhunter instinct to handle stress finally taking over her irrational worry for her daughter. "Explain."

Five minutes later, Isabelle, Sebastian and I were sitting in the study, our stances serious. Well, all of us except Sebastian. He was being his usual arrogant self and lounging from the couch as though he didn't care about anything. I knew better.

"And then Sebastian and Jace found her..." Isabelle was explaining in an unusually sweet voice. "She really did it Jocelyn, she killed the Gnarl by herself. Her instincts have been growing; Simon's noticed it too. These past few weeks, Clary's been reacting more quickly and sensing things. She's still..."

"My daughter is no longer one of you." Clary's mother said, cradling her newborn and putting him in the crib along with his sister. "She's human now."

Luke and Jocelyn married three years ago, though the Clave tried to intervene. Eventually, Jocelyn convinced the Clave that Luke was a good person to have in Clary's life, since he was like the Mundane, a mortal who knew everything.

Their life was great for a while, and Clary was happy. Jocelyn was blissful, and had two kids with Luke. All was well until the incident this summer, when a choice made by Jocelyn divided the family. They lost a lot of money, paying for Clary's hospital bills, and eventually the stress broke the family more then Clary ever knew.

Jocelyn and Luke had been keeping Clary under their thumb too much, without telling her why. Naturally Clary began to rebel, leaving without telling them where she was going, lying, breaking rules. She didn't understand that her absence terrified her parents, because she didn't know that a sadistic psychopath was currently on the warpath to finding her...

The more they tried to control her, the further she pulled away. All because of the Incident; the incident that Sebastian and I caused.

Simply by loving Clary.

"But why are you back in the first place?" Jocelyn suddenly said. "What are you trying to accomplish?"

"We're here because the Clave sent us here." Sebastian's voice was defensive. "We're on assignment. Valentine has been sending creatures from his army to find his...daughter."

"The Gnarl?"

"There's no telling," I said. Then smirked and added, "Clary didn't really give it a chance to explain. She was incredible."

"But I have been dealing with everything that has found Clary, and none of them were specifically looking for her." Isabelle sounded apprehensive at her next line. "But when it got quiet, I began to worry. So Jocelyn and Luke grounded Clary, and nothing has happened since. But this attack..."

"Wasn't coincidental." Sebastian sat up finally, his tone more serious. "It was waiting for Clary to be alone. And now we are going to make sure, she is never alone. Jocelyn I know you hate us, and you have perfect reasoning to – but I care about Clary more than she'll ever know. And we are here for her protection, just extra back-up for Isabelle, Alec, and the boy."

"Simon." Isabelle offered.

"Whatever." I snapped.

"If that's all you are here for," Jocelyn said warily, "Then I suggest you boys clear out before Clary wakes up. She left school without permission again. I need to have a little talk with my daughter."

Just then Luke entered the house, dropping his medical bag and shoes at the door. He reeked of cigarettes and his eyes were tired.

"You." He said, upon seeing me in his chair. "Are you here because Clary remembers?" there was a wild panic in his eyes, as though it would not be a horrible thing if that were the case. He wanted Clary to remember.

I suddenly felt sympathetic for him; Luke was a good guy. But he was now responsible for three children, and bills no regular man could afford, because Jocelyn stayed home. And he took it out on Clary, who hated him for simply protecting her too much.

"No, she doesn't remember anything," Isabelle explained. I felt exhausted, and I needed to leave. The tension in the room multiplied as Jocelyn and Luke, who were clearly still fighting. It was Jocelyn's choice to leave the Clave, and force Clary to lose her memory, and hide her from her father. Luke wanted to tell Clary everything; to let her decide for herself if she wanted a normal life, or one of untimely peril.

Jocelyn chose to make her daughter oblivious. Luke lost his faith in right and wrong.

"We'll be going now," I said pointedly at Sebastian, who was looking up the stairs of the home wistfully. I felt yet another pang of jealousy and the urge to hurt him. _She was my girl,_ I thought angrily. "Lets go."

"Yeah." Sebastian smiled charmingly at Jocelyn. "Always...sort of a pleasure." He bowed dramatically and stepped out into the streets followed by Isabelle and Simon, who hugged Clary's mom in turn.

I began to leave, when Luke caught me into an unexpected bear hug. My instinct was to shove him off; I was never comfortable with affection, but his grip was serious, he was trying to say something.

Luke spoke in muffled Latin in my ear, a language dead, but sacred to the shadowhunters. His message was rehearsed, like he'd learned it just so he could say it to me the next time we spoke. He let me go and I simply stared at him, and nodded. The piece of paper in my hand crumpled as I gripped it like a lifeline, walking away from the house.

"_Clary dreams of you."_ He said. _"You are the key to getting her back. Help her remember Jace."_

And in my hand, was a drawing. A sketch of a blonde and a dark angel, standing side my side over the city, both with the rune for "love" drawn on their chests, over the heart.

She remembers.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: I'm sorry for the late update, I promise these will be coming more often (assuming people actually like it lol) So without further delay, here's Clary waking up**_

**Disclaimer I don't own Mortal Instruments**

Being hung-over is one of the most painful experiences ever. You're sensitive to light, you literally can't move any muscle without severe pain and nausea, and on top of that, every sound, even as small as the toilet flushing in the apartment next door, drills through your eardrums like the Saint Patty's day parade.

What I woke up with a few hours later, made the worst hangover in the world look like a Caribbean getaway.

"ARRRGGG." That was the sound of me attempting to move. Followed by some silent whimpering and cussing.

"Clarissa?" Oh god that voice, that ear piercing voice. My mother threw open my bedroom door, and I cowered further into the sheets, and hid beneath my pillows. "Would you like to explain to me why I had to come pick you up from school today, when your nurse called me to tell me you were passed out in class?"

"Wha...what?" My brain hurt, but I fought through the fog. I passed out? I didn't remember...well I didn't remember most of the day actually.

My mom, completely unaware of my silent confusion, walked forcefully up to me and lifted my eyelids. "Alright, don't bother lying to me Clarissa, I'm not stupid. What drugs did you do?"

"What?' that woke me up. "Mom!"

"What are you on Clary?" She let go of my face and crossed her arms. I was sitting up now still in pain but too appalled to care. "Luke has been worried sick, they called him at the hospital while he was making his rounds in the ICU!"

"Oh heaven forbid Luke be bothered with my existence," I snapped, "And for the record, I didn't take anything. I'm not that stupid, and how could you jump to that conclusion without anything to go off of?"

"Clary, you know this isn't the first time this has happened."

No, no she could not still be bringing this up. A few months ago, I was coming home from Pandemonium, a club down town that Simon and I occasionally hung out in. It was a sketchy place, but I loved the surreal atmosphere of it. That night however, I blacked out on the streets for some reason, and Simon called an ambulance. I woke up hours later with scratch marks on my skin, as though I had been clawing at it, and my nose bled. They said I had the side affects of excessive Cocaine in my system, but I knew, I _knew_ they were wrong. I would never have done that...

"I wasn't on drugs mom!"

"Stop lying to me!" My mother stood from the bed, towering over me. She grabbed my arm, and thrust it forward, illuminating three long lines like nails digging into skin. They were fresh, and puckered above my pale skin. I recoiled my arm, and pulled my sweater down. I wouldn't break, not this time.

"After everything you have put your father and me through, to pull a stunt like this..." she paused and took a breath. "You're grounded."

"I'm already grounded."

"For another month. I will not let you out of my sight. Not for one second do you understand?" My mother shifted her weight daring me to speak. I kept my chin high, taking whatever the hell she said in cold silence. "You will come home directly from school, and you will not be going anywhere on weekends."

Fantastic, I thought, it was my current punishment, extended. At this rate, I'd be grounded through my wedding day.

"Did you hear me Clary?"

I stared at her, face completely clean of emotion. I didn't wince from her voice anymore, and I sat rigidly. My hostility made her slightly uncertain, and I saw her flinch. She hadn't expected me to shut down like this.

"Leave," I said.

Mom raised her eyebrows, but didn't scream at me further. She slammed the door on the way out, and I crumpled into my sheets like fragile glass.

How could this be happening again? I didn't take anything at Pandemonium; I didn't drink or smoke either. That night was blocked I'm my memory, just like I didn't remember much of the day today.

I sat up again and replayed as much as I could from school. I remembered Isabelle, and Simon talking about someone . . . and I remember Isabelle's cousins. They were...they were...

Sebastian. And Jace. My heart was hammering violently as I recalled the drawing that was so real, that looked so much like them. I'd dreamt about them for months, and I think, I talked to them today. I ... remembered Jace's eyes, so intelligent and crystalline, like amber. I remembered his dark, handsome, and arrogant brother, and Jace's cold distance.

But that was it. There was a whole, a gap. I couldn't have simply passed out then, could I? God, what if it was while I was talking to them? Or worse, I suddenly thought.

"What if they did this to me," I said aloud. "What if they slipped me something . . ."

I picked up the phone immediately, dialing Simon on instinct. He had been with me both times when memory had gaps, and never talked about Pandemonium. But it was possible he knew if I'd been given something this time, or at the least reassure me I was safe with the Wayland brothers. Some part of me shattered at the thought of staying away from them. It was as if I . . . couldn't. They weren't criminals. And I found myself oddly protective of them.

"Simon." I hadn't realized how broken I sounded, "You there?"

"Clary, thank god you're awake." He sounded out of breath too. "What happened?"

"You tell me!" I practically screamed, and then quickly composed myself. "Look, I need some facts here, the last thing I remember was the cafeteria; I talked to Jace and Sebastian right?"

"Yeah, those exact asshats." He sounded reluctant.

"Simon this is serious. Mom thinks I'm doing drugs like what happened in Pandemonium. She extra grounded me... but that's not the point. I need to know if I walked off somewhere with either one of them, or someone else before I blacked out."

There was a long pause.

"Simon?"

"Jace and Sebastian talked to you in the Cafeteria, and then somehow you just crumpled. You hadn't eaten much that day Clary. They caught you, and Isabelle and I got the nurse." He sounded so rehearsed, like someone was telling him what to say. "No one slipped you anything."

"Oh god, thank you." I felt a weight slip off, and I suddenly realized how much I feared that the brothers did something to me. One of my worst nightmares was being drugged against my will, but in those dreams one of my angels always saved me. "I'm okay, I'll figure it out..." I was mumbling now.

"How are you feeling, really?" Simon asked, sounding like himself again.

"Like a vampire," I joked. There was silence on the other line.

"What!?"

I chuckled. "I can't stand the light, everything is extremely loud, and I'm freezing. But I guess I can't be a vampire, since I'm not sparkling."

"Vampires don't sparkle, that's ridiculous." Simon sounded utterly serious. "In fact that theory pisses off most of the Vampire community like no other. You can blame Twilight for the end of the human race."

I barked a laugh, too relieved to worry about being discrete. However, my slip bit me in the ass as soon as mom walked back into my room and disconnected my phone. She didn't let me say anything to Simon, and I just stared at her heartlessly as she collected various things to confiscate. There went my TV, laptop, and room phone. I'd have to explain to Simon tomorrow at school.

He wasn't the least bit surprised when I explained the unexpected hang up that next morning in the hallway. Isabelle even offered her appropriate commentary on how unfair my mom was being, and though I knew that logically I should just grow up and take it, the teenager-oppressed-by-parents side of me was pleased.

"I guess it could be worse," Isabelle said in an afterthought.

"Like how princess?" Simon rolled his eyes, "I thought you'd be the one pointing out the injustice of Clary losing all methods of entertainment."

"Yeah, but I was just thinking about how Clary's mom could have been right." I stared at her, shocked. Isabelle amended quickly, "I just meant that if my kid had gone out and done something reckless, hypothetically, I would freak out and try and keep her as close as possible too... Not that the drug accusation was true, I was just thinking about..."she paused, and looked over her shoulder at the table where Alec sat with Jace and Sebastian. "I was thinking about something else."

"Clary isn't reckless," Simon snapped unexpectedly. "She never does anything that would ham the people she cares about, if anything everything she does is for someone else."

"Uhh..." I wanted to mention that the praise was a bit off the charts but I was interrupted.

"Maybe that's the problem all along," a sultry voice said from behind me. "She needs to take better care of herself."

Jace was leaning on his arm lazily on our table, and his face was practically at my cheek. I stiffened in my seat, and for some reason thought of a mouse caught in the eyes of a serpent. He hardly gave me a second glance the day before, and now his lips were inches away from mine.

"What?" I shook the image off. "What were we talking about?"

Jace smiled, his lip doing this oddly sexy curl to the side, looking exceptionally pleased. He however changed the subject.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, situating so that he was sitting at my side rather than about to kiss me. I felt an immediate loss. But then I remembered the humiliation of having fainted for no reason yesterday, allegedly right into his arms. Damn, I can't believe I was out for that.

"I'm fine, just a few cuts and bruises though I don't know how I got them." I said a little too honestly. I realized this was a much warmer conversation then the one I had with Jace yesterday. He was distant then. What changed?

Jace seemed intrigued at the idea of my cuts however, as morbid as it was. "May we see them?" He asked as he was already sliding my sweater sleeve upwards, obviously not really asking permission.

"How did you know where they were?" I started to ask, but stopped midway at the sight of my forearm. The cuts were nearly gone, leaving merely faint traces of what looked pretty bad last night. "Um..."

Sebastian had apparently joined the table without my noticing, and was staring intently at my skin. I was flushed where Jace held me, and I could feel the callous of his fingers. But that was not what Sebastian cared about.

"Have you always been such a fast healer Kitten?" he asked, in that jaded and cocky tone.

"No, not really..." I looked up into his eyes and saw my own reflection. My bewildered expression and the way I was angled toward Jace. The brothers looking at me protectively, two towering shadows like guardians, yet defiant in their stances. I experienced what could only be considered Déjà vu.

Everything was so strange; First the pictures and the dreams, then the fainting, and now this? Healing and Déjà vu? God I couldn't remember, and the frustration was beginning to build to a breaking point.

Jace's eyes bore into mine. "Are you alright?" He seemed uncertain for a second, and then hesitantly placed his hand on mine. "Clary..."

I flinched. My mind was reaching, searching for familiarity in his caress, but . . . I shouldn't have found it. But that's just it. I did. His calloused hands, their warmth, I couldn't have possibly just met him yesterday.

Sebastian cleared his throat, and the lunch hour was over. I looked away quickly and mumbled something about being late to class.

Once I made it to calculus, I dropped my head into my hands and tried to breathe, tried anything to slow my pulse. This might have been how I fainted yesterday, I panicked, trying to hold on to my memories and stay conscious. "I'm fine...I'm fine..."

"No you aren't"

I jumped at the sound, and realized I was chanting to myself with my head on the desk in the middle of class. And what was even more shocking is that it was Alec, Isabelle's impassive twin who addressed me.

"I'm sorry, I'm out of it." I said trying to sound sane.

"I just thought you should know, that I've seen that look before." Alec gestured to me, probably referring to my current state of looking like a skittish drowned rat. "And I'm going to do something a little out of my character for you."

"You mean other than talking to me?" Alec just ignored me.

"I'm going to give you some advice." He looked straight into eyes. "Something is obviously happening that is out of your control. Whatever it is, remember that you aren't helpless. It may feel inevitable, so just, go with it. You look like someone who knows how to handle herself, so no matter what is happening that has you so lost, let it happen, because in the end, you will still always have options and a choice. Okay?"

I simply looked at him. "Okay."

Alec hardly noticed me, although his sister was one of my closest friends. But what he said to me had an extreme calming affect on me. He was right that I felt lost; I'd always felt out of place here, like there was a part of me that was missing. I ran from Sebastian and Jace, tried to push them out of my mind, because their presence was powerful and it scared me.

But what if I stopped fighting?

"Okay" I said again, though class had ended and Alec was gone. I felt a smile creeping on my face as I walked out toward my car. I wasn't going to run anymore.

Mom was out when I got home, and Luke was still working at the hospital, pulling one of those 48-hour shifts again. I was pleased with the solitude though; it gave me some time to just feel like myself again.

I made myself some casserole for dinner, wrapped it in plastic wrap for mom when she got home, and attempted to do some homework. A few hours later, mom came in and didn't acknowledge me, which was to be expected. She went to bed, and I was lying on my back staring at the ceiling at a loss for what to do. It was a Friday night, and I was enjoying it like a lonely cat lady, without the cats.

That's why when I heard the sound of something hitting my bedroom window; I nearly flipped out of bed. It sounded like a stone being thrown, and my heart flew. My room was two stories up, and I was desperate for something, for someone right now.

I don't know what I expected exactly, my knight in shining armor at the window, throwing pebbles? It was 30 degrees, and the only thing hitting the glass was a fallen icicle left over from the last storm.

In the distance though, I saw something black flicker in my peripheral vision. It was dark, and moved too quickly for me to see. I squinted to try and focus on whatever it was, and for a brief second, I swore, it_ looked_ at me. On instinct I stumbled back and ran into my bed. My pulse was on a railway track. It was nothing, I told myself. I laughed aloud. Pathetic.

The air got tighter around me then, and I swayed on my feet. My smile faded, and I felt myself move, as though something else was controlling me. I groped around my room frantically, and finally found what I was looking for, a single candlestick. Unconsciously, I lit the candle and placed it at the windowsill.

When I snapped back into reality, I stared at my handiwork. _Why did I do that? _I walked to the bathroom and splashed water in my face. I could officially add "hallucinations" and "mind control" to my list of crazy.

A few minutes later, I decided I was just exhausted and needed sleep. The minute I stepped into my room though, I found myself facing Jace, sprawled out on my bed, waiting for me like he'd been there the whole time.

"Clary," he said, his voice giving away some strong emotion, though his tone was light. "For the record, phone calls work just as easily and are far more efficient."


	6. Chapter 6

_**AN: That last chapter was kind of filler, but I needed to get some Clary angst over everything out of the way. And to make it up to you, I wrote this one in less then a day. Hope you all like it, and this time I'm asking. REVIEW?**_

**I do not own Mortal Instruments, obviously.**

"_Clary," he said, his voice giving away some strong emotion, though his tone was light. "For the record, phone calls work just as easily and are far more efficient."_

"Jace, what the hell are you doing here?" I hissed, suddenly terrified my mom would come in and witness this. I had a candle lit, and boy in my bed. I'm fairly certain that would constitute as any mothers worst nightmare.

"What you should be asking yourself Clary, is how you knew I would come if you signaled me."

"But I didn't – " I began to protest, but then I followed his warm bemused gaze to the candle. "That is a signal? It was a coincidence...I don't even know why I did that. I meant nothing."

"If so, then why aren't you more worried about the fact that your friend's distant cousin is in your room right now, having entered without a the use of a door? Why does me being here, not really surprise you?" Jace quirked his eyebrow,_ that's so sexy._

I didn't answer right away because I was assessing how I felt. Shocked yes, a little embarrassed to have been caught in my PJ's but . . . Comfortable. Safe. Expectant even. Of what? What did I _want _from this boy, who should have been merely a stranger and yet somehow looked like he belonged in this room more than I did. Like he had been here with me before.

"You . . .you_ have_ been here before," I continued my thought aloud. "With me I mean, I'm not crazy. I've known you from somewhere right?" Jace simply smiled sadly, lost in memory.

"Yes, you know me - And my brother. We have been . . . friends . . . for a long time." I nodded, mentally noticing his reluctance to say "friends".

"Clary I have so much to tell you, to show you, if you let me." Jace sat up suddenly. "The fact that you remembered small things, like the signal, means you already know part of the truth. You have been feeling differently lately Clary; you know there's something wrong. I want to give you answers."

I sized him up, fighting the panic. _Just go with it, it's inevitable, you still have a choice_ Alec's voice said in my head. I nodded. "There is something going on. I've seen you before I have really SEEN you, and there's other things . . . I just can't get a grasp on them. So will you tell me everything then?" I stepped closer to him, our eyes leveled, challenging one another.

"No." Jace was certain of that. His expression turned hard like stone. "I can only tell you pieces, help you get a hold of who you were when you knew me, but I can't tell you how or why you forgot me and Sebastian. It's for your safety." He paused thoughtfully, "At least not yet. There are some things we'd need to do, if you trust me Clary."

I sighed. Half-truths were awful; they were the things that gave you nightmares of what was missing in explanation. But, I was going to take what I could get. "Okay," I said again for the last time today. "Show me, Jace."

He smiled an inexplicable smile, and quickly sat up, his eyes blazing with excitement. He stood, and came close to me, eliciting an unwarranted shiver that grew from the base of my spine, upward. He looked gorgeous I had to admit. He was dressed in a loose white shirt, lightly unbuttoned at the chest. His dark jeans hung low on his waist, and I could see the shape of his abdomen narrowing into the pant line. I gulped.

Jace extended his hand. I took it.

"You know I might be getting myself into a lot of trouble for you. It might not be worth it." I sighed.

"Trust me Clary," Jace said smoothly. "I'm worth it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**JPOV**

Her hands were so tiny in mine, just like I remembered. They were her secret instruments of art; Clary could capture the image and soul of anything in her drawings. Her hands, with slightly chipped nail polish at the tips, were clasped in my grip, and all I could coherently think was that I could never let her go. But I did, because her hands weren't mine to keep anymore.

However some flicker of hope burned in my heart tonight when I was her signal. Sebastian, Izzy and I had shifts watching over Clary now, and mine began twenty minutes ago after Jocelyn had given the "okay" to begin the night shift rotations, as long as we remained out of sight. I was watching from below as lights dimmed in the rooms of the apartments nearby, when Clary's figure suddenly lurched toward the sill above me.

I immediately situated to catch her, if she fell – but her movements were so distinct and frantic, I simply stared.

"Clary what are you up to..." I said quietly under my breath, watching my words form a cloud in the cold. How desperately I would have given anything to be up there with her, cozy and warm in her bedroom, spending nights just talking like we did when we were younger, in the institute. But I had been too naive then to show her how much I really loved her then. And now I could barely stand the thought of having lost my chance.

Right in that moment, Clary practically answered my prayers. She lit a single candle and left it by the window, just like all those nights years ago. It was her signal for "come to me" and "I need you." The other shadowhunters used it as a rendezvous point sign, but it was something intimate between Clary and I. She called to me.

And now, I settled to show her the truth. I looked deeply into those emerald eyes, and prayed silently that she wouldn't hate me after.

"Clary I am going to carefully remind you of who you were, with me and my brother, because you deserve honesty." She seemed to accept this. "Your mother made a choice for you last summer that wrapped you in this . . . protective bubble. You didn't always have this life. Your parents always fighting, Luke's drinking – it is so different from the life I know you would have chosen."

Maybe the Clave sent me here to do more than keep an eye on my past love; maybe they were granting Clary her chance at free will, I thought. But Clary's eyes were wide.

"So this is my fault?" her voice shook. "Luke working so much, Mom hating me, the chaos at home, the screaming and all of it? It's because of me?"

"No, Clary that's not what I am saying!" I touched her cheek, but she flinched away. "It is all a consequential effect of a few peoples choices, like domino's following a pattern. The reason you feel so confined at home is because your parents are trying to protect you from something-"

"That's exactly what Isabelle said," Clary mumbled. "They way they keep me under their thumb, it's just to keep me from finding out the truth about, well, you isn't it? You think they are right to keep me in the dark then, about . . . whatever it is?"

Now I couldn't contain myself, I reached out for her and had her in my arms before she could blink. "Not in the least. I know you better then anyone in the world. You would have wanted to fight . . . it." I smirked, "You're really not one to go down without kicking and screaming your know, so I know hiding isn't your choice."

I felt Clary exhale in frustration. Her hair smelled like strawberries and roses, I could almost taste it. "You really know me that well Jace?" She asked. I nodded, sneaking a nuzzle in our hug.

"Don't you think it's unfair then? That you know me, but I can't remember ever consciously meeting you?" Clary seemed to think for a moment, and then wrapped her arms around my torso tightly. I could barely contain my hunger for this little red headed girl. "This feels familiar. You smell familiar, so . . . good." I chuckled, knowing her blush was probably crimson right now. I let her go.

"I will tell you anything you want to know about me, but you have to go somewhere with me right now." I tried to look as serious as possible.

"Anywhere."

I grinned. _That's my girl_, I thought, _not even stopping to think_. "Connie Island."

"Connie Island?" Clary's eyebrows shot up. She looked down at her baggy pajamas and brought her yes back to mine. "Now?"

"Right now." I couldn't take my eyes off her curves, and she bristled, noticing this too. She turned and pulled out a hoodie and jeans out of her closet. It was my turn to blush. "I . . . I'll leave you for a moment," I said before climbing down to where I saw supposed to be keeping watch all night. Well that failed spectacularly.

Once Clary was changed I helped her down the fire escape, considering she swore she couldn't scale a building. I didn't bother reminding her that she could if she tried, because her body would remember what to do.

We made it to the carnival in twenty minutes, 18 of which Clary spent freaking out about her mother finding out about this. I told her that I would deal with Jocelyn if it came to that, scary as she may be.

The place was deserted, having locked for the winter, but that was no matter, I snapped the frozen lock easily. Clary stared at me while I did it, but didn't comment. I needed a secluded area, one of memories, and Connie Island fit the bill.

"Okay, so what now?" Clary said expectantly, turning on her heel to face me. "Do you know how to start up the Ferris wheel? Did you want to? – " She stopped. Her eyes dilated when she finally saw me, and I knew why. My stance was one we practiced thousands of times, and it was a preparation of attack. I had my shirt off, and only sported a white tank that clung to my muscles. Clary tensed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to come at you like an attacker," I smiled at her fear. "You are going to stop me."

"Jace I don't know self defense, you cant just..." She backed up hesitantly, her pulse frantic in her veins. I could hear it. And just when she looked away, I shot my body toward her at full force.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**CPOV**

I didn't even have breath enough to scream, as his arms came at me with the precision of a bullet. I closed my eyes and put my arm out to beg him to stop, when I felt the impact and the dizzying spinning of my fall. But then the strangest thing happened . . . as Jace came at me again, I ducked and twisted my torso enough that he was at a vulnerable angle, and with as much force as I could, I brought my fist down to make him collapse.

_Use your shoulder blades, not your arms, to make him double over_, something said in my mind. _Sidestep, now defend your face, sidestep, and lunge._ It was as though we were dancing, or rather I was. With every passing second I was eluding Jace's every motion, anticipating his next move, and hitting him while causing minimal damage to myself.

Seconds in, I took up the offensive, somehow knowing how to, and had Jace flat on his back beneath me. He was staring at me with eyes glowing in pride, and we were both sweating and breathing heavily. His arms were trapped above his head in my grip, and his torso was wedged between my legs. It was _ridiculously_ sexy.

Still out of breath, I looked down at Jace. "How . . . did I do that?"

"It's a part of who you are Clary," Jace breathed, my body moving with him as he exhaled. "You have been a trained fighter all your life. You know Karate, Ti Kwon Do, Jujitsu, artillery fighting, street and alley boxing too. Did that feel familiar?"

"Yes," I said surprising myself, "I mean, my hearts beating like a mile a minute, but I feel refreshed, like I just drank cold water while thirsty. And I beat you! Was it good?"

"Oh, I'd say you were good." Jace raised his eyebrow suggestively and wiggled his hips a little, making me gasp in pleasure. "You were very, very good."

"Shut up," I giggled, hiding the overwhelming desire I suddenly felt, sitting on him like this. He was so warm, so close, and every place his skin touched mine sang in electricity. "How did you know I would remember how to fight though?"

"I've been watching you," Jace replied thoughtfully. "You seem to react and show signs of physical memory of your strength when you are in stressful or stimulating situations. I had to really scare you to get you to fight me."

I thought about the way I had been aggressive at school these past few days, having thoughts of uncharacteristic violence when I was really stressed, just as Jace said. "But is this how I would have to retrieve my memories?" I asked him. "What about the ones that didn't have to do with physical actions -What about the people I forgot? Like you . . ."

"I'm sure we will find a way to get you to remember me," Jace said wistfully. "That is . . . if you want to. There's a lot I haven't told you, horrible things that might make you want to stay away from me. But that's the point. You will have the choice."

"You say memories can be retrieved through stimulation right?" I asked, smiling lightly.

"Yes . . ." Jace looked at me questioningly.

"Any kind of stimulation?" I said, using my best man-eater smile.

My body reacted to fighting, the adrenaline and the instincts telling me what to do - Because it was in my blood to react that way to the stimulation. But even as we spoke, my adrenaline was screaming for action, my body reacting to Jace's proximity. I_ wanted _him.

"Jace when we fought, I instinctively knew to defend and attack, because you were stimulating it. But we aren't fighting anymore, and my body is still telling me what I want to do." I looked down at him, and saw the hunger in his eyes as well. "We mean something to each other don't we? That's why my body is screaming for me to kiss you right now."

"Oh Clary." Jace broke his hands free and slid them along my thighs, winding up until he held my waist. Each stroke of his hands left a trail of heat on my skin, a burn that felt _so good . . . _My eyes nearly rolled back in anticipation and I leaned down, and licked my lips. Jace bucked his hips, and the belt on his jeans hit me in a wave of passion. He sat up halfway to meet me, His lips inches away, his grip massaging my skin when . . .

"Well, well, what do we have here," A singsong voice said. I jumped off Jace quickly and whirled to face the stunningly beautiful woman before us. "My, Shadowhunter, you do move quickly, you have been back for merely a few days, if I am correct." She addressed Jace with amusement.

"What did she just call you?" I asked. "A 'shadow' what?"

"I see she's still in the dark, how lovely," The woman said. She walked into the light, and I finally saw her clearly. She has eyes like liquid silver metal, her body slender and tall. She had a commanding presence, and held herself like royalty. She was clothed in a simple white dress that wound in the back as though she had wings. She was looking at me with bemused curiosity. "Clarissa, do you know who I am?"

"N-No Mam" I stammered. "Who are you?"

"Please, your grace, I beg you, leave Clary alone." Jace interrupted me. "She is safer under the cloak of humanity. We are hiding her from Valentine and his minions. Surely your highness, you would not want a war?"

He was hiding me from my Valentine? Like the Fourteenth of February kind? What the _hell_ is going on, I thought frantically. Why is Jace calling this hag, his 'highness' anyway?

"You have no knowledge of what I desire, young Shadowhunter," the woman sneered, "I do not play by your rules, and I take no sides. But you see, you and your brother owe me a debt, dealing with your beloved red head. And her hiding bores me. So I am going to offer you a deal, play out my game or I will give Valentine the girl. I will show all the demons where she hides, and she will die."

"What demons? What the fuck is going on? I'm not a piece of property, you can't take me anywhere," I snapped, but suddenly found myself restrained in Jace's grasp. I looked at where he held me back, and then found his eyes. There was panic in them. "She can't control us Jace," I said.

"Actually she can," Jace whispered. "She's the Seelie Queen in my world."

"The...queen of what?" I stared at the woman, who was very regal indeed, but I couldn't believe she would harm me.

"Clarissa, you and your Shadowhunter had better listen to me, and listen well." The Queen moved until she was directly before us, and I felt a tremor run through my heart. "You slipped though my game once before, and for that I gave you your life, but it came with a price. Now it is time to pay. My dear, you are blessed with love, but love is your poison. So the game has not changed, and all will end with this. You will either make a choice, and the losing love will decease, or the two who you love will fight to the death, and one will die of a broken heart. One brother shall kill the other. There is no alternative."

"My queen, you mean Sebastian and I will have to play Valentines sick games again?" Jace's voice was unlike I ever heard it. He was terrified.

"That is precisely right young man." The Queen smiled, her grin twisted in s sickening snarl. "So either convince young Clary to love you again, or I will force you into a battle for your life once more." She turned to me. "So choose wisely, I do get easily bored of waiting."

And with that she disappeared, her shape dissolving into nothing in the air. I blinked, trying to shake the image back into reality People don't just pop in and out of existence, it doesn't happen. No, no - this can't be happening. _Not again . . ._ some lost part of my consciousness whimpered.

Jace no longer held me. In fact, he stood so far out of my reach, I thought for a moment he had disappeared too. There was something dangerous in his stance, and something – vulnerable. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he wouldn't look at me. I sickened him.

"Jace . . ."

"This is my fault Clary," Jace seemed disgusted in saying my name. "I shouldn't have come, I shouldn't have touched you. It was wrong." I flinched, hurt. "It won't happen again. Because of me, she found you; because of me the demons won't be far behind. It's time we told you everything."

"Demon's aren't real Jace." I tried to sound rational, but every fiber of my being was screaming in confirmation. Nightmares, things that go bump in the night, sick twisted creatures you only read about in fiction, they were all very much in our world. I remembered them. They were what I was hiding from.

Amber eyes finally met my pleading gaze, and I felt my knees give from the longing in them. But as quickly as the emotion showed, it disappeared, just as the queen did. He was emotionless in his tone. "I am taking you to the institute. Nowhere is safe for you now."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: People are getting into the story now huh? Lol Well, A lot will happen in this next part, and A LOT will be revealed. Here goes. NOTE: flashbacks will be in third person.**

**Song of my day: Just Say Yes ~ Snow Patrol**

Nowhere is safe for you now . . . The words pounded in my head in tandem with my cold beating pulse. Thud-thud thud-thud -with each step Jace took at my side I grew colder, hearing only my pulse- Thud-thud. He didn't look at me the whole way toward the institute. He seemed even reluctant to touch my bare skin on my wrist as he dragged me along.

And as we reached the double doors of the Institute, he dropped my hand entirely, taking three steps back. "This is it." He startled me by speaking, and I jumped at how loud his voice sounded after a half an hour of silence. Jace put his arms against the doorway, and began whispering to himself, like he was praying. I couldn't make out any of the words besides "Angel" and occasionally a few profanities. The locks clicked and he stepped in, without looking back to see if I came along. In fact the only attention I got was from an obese cat, lounging in the hall. He meowed lazily.

"Fan-bloody-tastic" I grumbled. "I get the sumo-feline as my welcoming committee."

"His name is Church, and I don't think he appreciated that." Again, I jumped at the voice, but this time it wasn't honey-smooth. It was rougher, more sensual. Darker.

"Sebastian," I glanced over into the foyer, only to take in his relaxed form stretched out as that cat, Church, had been seconds ago. He had on a tight black sweater and dark faded jeans . . . and bunny slippers. I snorted, the tension in the room dissolving as he smiled at me. "I guess I really should have expected you to be here, but I'm shocked. I feel like I walked into a scene from desperate housewives."

"Please those Hags only wish they had my sex appeal." He wiggles his toes in the slippers. "I know you find these hot." I giggled slightly, relaxing. That is, until Jace reappeared in the hallway, emotionless.

"Enough." His voice was dead, so much so even Sebastian's grin faded. "Take Clary into the Library. I called a meeting and everyone is already here."

"Why the hell would you do that?" Sebastian spat none too kindly, "and for another matter, would you like to explain to me how your little date with Clary here is considered 'following orders?'"

"It doesn't matter, I'm going to fucking tell Clary everything – and that involves a lot of planning, and responsibility. Things I always have to take care of, because you are too much of a selfish, incompetent bastard to even –"

"Whoa." Sebastian rose suddenly and was at my side faster than humanly possible. "That was uncalled for." He turned to me. "What happened to the little brat tonight that caused the wrath of the hulk huh Clar-bear?" He lightly placed his hand on my shoulder when I didn't respond – I was trying to figure out why that nickname stirred warmth in my stomach. But the physical gesture set Jace off.

"_Don't fucking touch her_," He practically seethed. "_I'll rip your fucking arm off if you even think to –"_

I sidestepped and stared, mouth agape at Jace. "What is wrong with you? I mean I get it, that queen, the _Seelie _queen, she freaked me out too, but I don't understand you. You wouldn't even look at me after what she said, and now you are being all possessive?"

"Seelie Queen." Sebastian released me, his voice filled with fury. His eyes locked with his brother's – and there was an unspoken message, their fight forgotten. "EXPLAIN. Now."

Jace's only response was a cold, nearly silent "Library," and then he was gone, once more out of my sight. Sebastian led me by the arm, his face blank. His fingers however drew reassuring circles on my wrist, calming me. He wanted to show me he wasn't inexplicably irritated with me as Jace had been.

We passed the threshold of another ancient looking section of the institute, and my knees locked like a startled colts. Isabelle, Alec, and another unrecognizable man stood around a circular wood table, looking at me with concern. My eyes however only registered them for a second. It was my mother, sitting next to my best friend on the red velvet couch in the corner that threw me for a loop.

"Mom, Simon?" I gasped. I had that feeling of your heart dropping into your stomach, that feeling that a teenager gets when busted for something ridiculously bad. My mother's face however stopped my next comment in its tracks; she looked utterly _broken._ Her eyes were sad and tired.

"We need to talk Clarissa." She sounded as though she'd been crying. "It's time we explained everything. Everything about this summer."

"What happened this summer mom?" I heard the catch in my own voice. She looked away. I scanned the Library at each face, but only one person kept their eyes locked to mine.

I whimpered at Jace's next words. Two words delivered with no emotion whatsoever.

"You died."

_**FLASHBACK:**__** June 21 **__**2009**_

Clary woke up to the sound of her alarm, both completely disoriented and irritated that she had to get up at 6 am, in the summer. But, as far as her boys and the Clave was concerned, every shadowhunter must run 4 miles in the morning, and thus waking up past noon was simply not in the program.

She waltzed down the hall and rode the rail on the stairs on her way toward the kitchen, enthused at the smell of bacon radiating from the institute vents. But as she came closer to the end of the rail, she lost her balance and somersaulted straight into Sebastian's waiting arms.

"You never learn Clar-bear," he smiled lightly, putting her down and playfully tickling her sides. He wore his signature ninja turtle pajama bottoms that Clary secretly loved on him. He was also blatantly shirtless this morning, and flaunting his sculpted abdomen, hoping Clary would notice. Sebastian loved watching her blush.

"Eager for bacon I presume? Don't be. Isabelle is cooking. All of it will be burnt in a few seconds."

"No" Clary gasped, and bolted for the kitchen doors. She caught them on a swing and hastily tried to intervene, when she realized Jace was standing over the stove, spatula raised as though it was his steele, and he was going to swat Clary with it. He looked puffy with sleep, his blond hair messy and chaotic, his light grey shirt undershirt peaking his boxers. Clary sputtered some profanities while Sebastian laughed from the hall.

"You ass," she grumbled.

"Maybe so," Sebastian walked in and swatted her butt in a light spank. "But you love me anyway, and you know it kitten."

Clary rolled her eyes, used to his teasing, and instinctively let her gaze flicker to Jace. He wasn't looking at her; he _never _seemed to pay attention to anything she did. Although they have trained together for years in the institute everyday after school, and although she never went to sleep without dreaming of his chiseled arms around her - he never saw her. She was little, unattractive Clarissa Fray to him.

But Sebastian paid attention to her. And although he was usually a conceited bastard, she cared about him too. But he wasn't Jace. No one could really fill that hollow wound.

Clary ran her fingers through her hair awkwardly, and set the table for her boys. Hodge, the Institute caretaker, and all the other usual residents were away for the weekend, so Clary and the Waylands had the house to themselves. But did they party like usual teenagers? No, not even close. They ran. They trained. They studied demonology until their heads exploded. They went out, and killed the nightmares most of the world couldn't even comprehend. Really twisted things like that.

Her only semblance of normality was her daily doses of Simon, and the ridiculous traditions they created together. Things like spending hours poking fun at pop culture, making breakfast food in the middle of the night, and calling each other in between commercial breaks just to rant about the cliffhangers. She smiled inwardly on her way to the weapons and training room, thinking about her dorky relationship.

"What are you thinking about?" Jace asked her, noticing the lightness she sometimes got in her eyes. Clary would never know just how much he reveled in her eyes, those heady emeralds – they intoxicated him. She met his gaze, but only saw the mask he wore everyday, to keep her out.

"I was thinking of how Simon is the only normal thing in my world," she said. "Apart from shadowhunter training, the hunt for Valentine, and mom marrying Luke and having the kids, I suppose I just appreciate some sanity around here."

Jace fought back the nauseating jealousy that her smile was for Simon, and once more felt the pang of wistfulness at her words. No, their world wasn't sane - it wasn't safe. Everyday, shadowhunters put their lives on the line, hoping that next strike won't be their last. Getting emotions involved only got people killed. Evil scum like Valentine would find what made you vulnerable and use it.

Valentine Morgenstern was the most twisted creature in their world, and he would stop at nothing to tear Clary away from Jace and Sebastian if he knew they meant anything to each other. Because Clarissa was his birth daughter, and Jace and Sebastian were his toys. He took the brothers in when they were young and trained them, tortured them like soldiers, until they escaped to the institute and met a feisty little red head that changed their lives. _To love is to destroy,_ Valentine would say. _Having feelings for her will destroy us both, _Jace thought.

"Would you mind sparring with me?" Jace asked hesitantly. "I know you normally do the morning training with Sebastian, but he is working on the chronicles of the Isaiah texts. It might be a while." Clary noticed a slight change in his voice but couldn't place where it had come from. She nodded, and started dressing in her gear.

They went through training in silence, - in heady, palpable, intense silence. Jace was an incredible fighter. His motions were like that of a lethal wolf, fluid and precise, each strike deliberate. But Clary was faster. She moved like a fox, sleek and circling. The two of them fought, tackled and wrestled, knowing exactly how the others mind worked, anticipating every move. However, an hour in, when Clary couldn't clear her head, Jace got the upper hand and had her pinned against the gymnasium wall, her legs dangling a foot off the ground.

"What is it?" Jace asked, breathless. He was sweating too, his shirt sticking to every curve of his body. Clary couldn't keep her eyes off of him. _God, I need him to know. I need to tell him what he does to me, holding me like this, _Clary thought frantically. _I need him to finally see me._

She just shook her head. Jace sighed, and let her down on to the floor for a moment, still holder his by the upper arms against the wall. "Clary," He tried to catch her eye. "Clary come on, I know every move your body makes, and I know you inside and out. We've been friends for three years. What's on your mind?"

He was right in that he knew every move her body made, but only in battle. He never expected her next one. Clary looked up into his confused expression with blazing determination, and braced herself against the wall, and in one swift motion, wrapped both legs around Jace's waist. His eyes flew open in astonishment and he nearly dropped her, but her arms had already begun snaking their way up over his stomach muscles and through his hair. He had never seen Clary's body _do this._

"I need you to tell me something," Clary's voice was silky, innocent yet playful. Jace gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing in tension. For a moment, he let himself enjoy the feel of her nails massaging his scalp, of her heat on his body. She smelled just as he imagined she would. Clary practically purred in his ear. "I need you to tell me, that I am only your friend, that you don't feel anything for me, that this . . ." Clary circled her hips on him, eliciting a silent groan that Jace restrained. "That this isn't what you want."

"Clary." Jace tried to sound firm; he let his body shut down. No, they couldn't do this.

"Tell me you don't want to kiss me . . ." Clary traced her bottom lip on Jace's, and he nearly melted.

"Because I can't lie to myself anymore." She continued, "I feel . . . I don't even know what it is Jace." Clary closed her eyes. "My heart hums for you, I know when you are near by because my body senses you. Your voice, the way you think, everything you say . . . I want you– "

"Stop." Jace dropped her, and kept his arms at length between their bodies. He couldn't hear anymore, Clary was going to ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He tried to keep her away, but she broke his every defense. He needed to break her, for her own good. Before they ended up hurting each other.

"I don't feel anything for you Clary." He tried not to register her flinch at the deadness in his tone. "This isn't what I want. It's not right, and I'm sorry of you got the impression –"

Clary stepped away from his so suddenly - Jace nearly fell after her. She turned away so that he couldn't see her face, but he could hear her quiet sobs. He'd never wanted to hurt her, but he had to. It was for the best.

"Please," Clary said in a shaky voice. "Just go, I . . . I'm so sorry Jace, just forget I said anything. I'm an idiot."

"Clary no."

"Just go." Clary sank to her knees, holding her tears in, clutching her stomach. Her heart was screaming, and she couldn't breathe. Jace took her lungs away.

Just then, Sebastian walked into the gymnasium and surveyed the scene before him. He was well aware of his brother idiotic notions, something he picked up from their "Trainer" Valentine. Sebastian however, had never once thought Jace would hurt Clary like this. Clary was the reason they were here, the reason that sick twisted fucker in Idris was not manipulating them right now. He looked at his brother for a moment in disgust, and swiftly socked him in the jaw.

"You remind me of Valentine more and more every day little brother," Sebastian spit, and threw a second punch. Jace staggered, and held his face, but said nothing. He knew he deserved that. Jace left the room, disgusted with himself.

Seconds later Clary found herself cradled in Sebastian's arms, his hand softly brushing the tears from her eyes. He was like a big teddy bear sometimes, and knew exactly how to calm Clary when she needed him. He kissed her forehead lightly, and brushed her hair back as she sat in his lap. He was hers entirely, and he would never hide from her. He whispered this into her ear as she cried, and she clung to him tighter, trying to fill the wound in her heart.

But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

"You know I'll always be here for you right? That I will never let anyone hurt you?" Sebastian caught a run away tear, and held Clary's face. His own expression held an unusual vulnerability that Clary never saw before. She nodded.

"You deserve so much more than what my brother can give you - Jace – he's self centered. I only act arrogant to get the ladies," she wiggled his eyebrows and Clary snorted. "But he is so involved in his own life, I sometimes wonder if there's even room for other people in his heart. You never heard me say any of this, got it? I don't want a pansy rep starting up here." The tension was melting from Clary's body.

Suddenly, Sebastian grew serious again, this time holding Clary as though his words were his last to her. "I could be better than him. Just," he dropped his eyes and a crease formed between his eyebrows. He looked as though he was trying to do complex math in his head. "Please just think about how it would be to have someone who can actually love you back. You don't have to answer me now – in fact, I think it would kill me if you did. But you should know, I'll probably always be looming in the shadows, waiting to sweep you off your feet."

His arrogance made its comeback, and Sebastian scooped Clary up with startling speed. He legs dangled off to her side and her head fell back over his arm. "See," he smirked, "literally swept off your feet." Clary laughed and slapped him lightly, but too exhausted to reply. All of this was too much, too sudden.

Sebastian left Clary in the library, calmed down, embarrassed, but more or less fine. He got her some hot cocoa and made little peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and talked to her about inconsequential things. Sebastian only let one person in this world see this side of him, the less arrogant – weaker side. Clary made him weak. He shut her door when she announced she wanted to call her mundane, whatever his name was – and found himself wondering the familiar corridors of the institute he was forced to call home.

He found Jace in the parlor, his hood drawn over his head and his headphones in his ears. He was blocking out the world, brooding, probably self satisfied for a job well done, thought Sebastian. Prick. Dip Shit. Sebastian walked around the red velvet couch until he was standing directly behind Jace, and in an impulsive gesture, he smacked the back of his little blonde head. Hard.

Jace whirled. He faced Sebastian with contempt, his face impossible to read. Jace never cried, he couldn't remember a moment in his life where it was necessary. Tears were signs of pathetic character, and they accomplished nothing. He grew up with the philosophy that if you want something, get it done. Ask forgiveness not permission. People were dispensable, replaceable. And although he knew all of this, he couldn't place exactly why everything that happened in the training room affected him so much. When he saw Clary's face . . . he felt something break. She wasn't replaceable to him. His brother was glaring at him in fury, and Jace himself felt himself welling up with hate for him. Sebastian was Mr. Sarcasm, someone who took everything for granted and worked toward nothing. He never had to make Jace's choices; he had never been responsible for anything.

"You're an idiot." Sebastian said it like a known fact, just as one would say, the "sky is blue" or "Clary has red hair."

"She's going to get over it and it will be like it never happened," Jace said, willing himself to believe his own words. Sebastian lunged at him over the couch and the boys tumbled to the floor until Jace was caught between Sebastian's forearms in a headlock. Jace hated having lost the upper hand, and shifted his body weight to knock them both into Hodges table, paper flying everywhere.

"Get over it?" Sebastian groaned. "You don't even know what you could have had you stupid fuck, she's _in love_ with you. Big, breaks your heart, hard to breathe, sloppy love. And you're dropping it like last weeks garbage because you can't get your head far enough out of your ass to love her back."

Jace was derailed by the word just long enough to get knocked over again, his head bouncing against asphalt. _Love?_ Him?

"You could have had what any guy would kill for," Sebastian said, kicking paper in Jace's face. Jace flinched, suddenly getting it.

"You love her, don't you?" Jace laughed humorlessly. It came out in a cough. "I can't believe I didn't see it before." And with that, Sebastian kicked Jace in the torso, cutting off his air supply. Jace clutched his stomach and rolled, curling up on the floor. A few minutes later, Jace sat up, brushing off the spilled paper from his body. A letter, lying in his lap however caught his attention. It was tattered and lightly burned.

_ To My Lord Valentine, _it was Hodge's handwriting.

_I have fulfilled my service as your eyes, your link to the boys of this estate. All the information I have passed to you, I have done in utmost respect, however I cannot continue to spy on the Wayland brothers. They have grown to be family with the Lightwoods, and they grow more and more vicious every day. I have sworn off and betrayed every shadowhunter moral I had in my previous life - to serve you, my liege- but I fear the Waylands will be far more dangerous than you expect. I must leave before they discover me._

_When I travel to Idris this summer, I will leave the boys alone at the estate with your daughter, Clarissa. Yes, she has been training here my lord, and I beg your forgiveness for never revealing her location to you. She had grown to be a daughter to me, but even that love I bare her cannot suppress my need for escape. She will be vulnerable and only in the company of your wards, Sebastian and Jace. You may enter through the mirror portal in the library; it has been enchanted for your arrival._

_What you do from here is no longer on my wary conscience._

_Your loyal servant no longer, _

_Hodge._

Jace's eyes flickered to the message written on the bottom of the page, a response to Hodges message. One sentence that shattered his last nerve; immobilizing him. He recognized Valentines twisted handwriting anywhere.

_Clarissa will be mine by the summer equinox._

Today was the 21st of June - the summer equinox began today. Jace stood with lightening speed, clutching the letter and running as fast as he could toward the library, where he knew Clary had been for the past few hours. _Please god, let her be alright. _"Sebastian!" He coughed out, finding him in the kitchen. He looked irritated, but grew alarmed at Jace's wild expression. "Get Clary now, we've got company!"

The brothers pushed their bodies, moving their legs faster than ever, throwing themselves through the long corridors as they frantically tried to reach Clary in time. Something cold ran through their blood, instinct telling them they were already too late. When they burst through the double doors, theirs eyes only registered that Clary was alive. She was alive. Relief only lasted a moment.

Clary had a long, white hand gripper her neck. Nails dug into her soft pink skin, drawing blood trails like tears on her skin. She looked up into the brother's eyes, showing fierce courage and determination to withstand anything Valentine did to her. She would not cry out, she wouldn't give _her father_ the pleasure.

"If you even try and reach for a weapon," Valentine grinned. "Sweet little Clarissa here will be dead before you even have time to beg me to stop." He tightened his grip. "I've missed these family gatherings, it's good being home."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: in case anybody's wondering, everything will make sense post Flash back : ) ok, continued . . . **

Jace couldn't think, he lost all the hope in his heart that everything was going to be all right. Just a few hours ago, his biggest problem was Clary's confession. Now he stared speechless as a monster choked the life out of her. There was stillness in the room, a sort of moment of decision. The brothers didn't dare breathe; they didn't dare move, because Valentine held their girl in his claws.

_Their girl_, Jace's looked at his brother through the corner of his eye. She means everything to us, and we'd do anything to save her. Sebastian caught his motion and Jace could see the wild need to protect her in his eyes as well. Clary was struggling not to cry or scream, waiting for the brothers to leave and get backup, weapons, and secure the building. By shadowhunter law, Clary was supposed to be sacrificed if needed to alert the Clave of Valentines location. They should have followed Shadowhunter law.

This wasn't the shadowhunter law and they knew it. Jace thought keeping her away from him would allow them to focus on their duty, without emotional ties. He didn't want to risk people's lives for the sake of one person who mattered to him more. He thought turning Clary down, lying to her, would keep them in the game. But he'd been lying to himself, and . . .

He was wrong; Clary already had him _body_ and _soul_. Perhaps she always had.

"Valentine." Jace growled, taking a shaking step forward. He would fight for her. If it killed him, he would still free Clarissa. "You sick piece of shit, I'm warning you, if anything happens to Clary –"

"You'll what Jonathan," Valentine barked. "Tell on me? Kill me? My dear boy I taught you everything you know, do you really think I wouldn't win?"

"Not if you're fighting us both." Sebastian joined Jace at his side, their differences forgotten. He wouldn't take his eyes off Clary. She looked wildly terrified and irritated that the boys weren't following orders. _Somehow even in the grips of death she manages to disapprove of us,_ Sebastian almost smiled. "So release Clary now, or you'll find out first hand how well we've been trained. Because I can't think of anything better than watching you die . . ." they stepped forward in unison, and suddenly Clary screamed.

"I wouldn't move unless you'd like to watch Clarissa bleed even more." Valentine turned her now trembling body to the side and revealed the blade he'd slashed through her ribs. Jace gasped, realizing she'd been holding in the pain this whole time. Valentine twisted the silver dagger, but Clary simply clenched her teeth and whimpered. Blood stained her shirt and ran down in a waterfall down her jeans.

"Clary," Sebastian said pleadingly, "God."

"What do you want?" Jace couldn't hear his own voice. He stared at the pooling blood that Clary seemed to be trying to hide. "We'll give you anything, just please . . ."

"Take one of us instead." Sebastian actually dropped to his knees, holding his hands up in a plea. Jace still couldn't force his body to move.

Valentine looked surprised - Jace's vulnerability; at Sebastian's uncharacteristic fear. He relished in it.

"My, my" he looked down at his daughter. "You have really gotten around sweetheart, all the while here I thought it had just been one of my sons that you seduced. How cute, they both want you. Pretty girl . . . " he traced Clary's bottom lip lightly.

She bit him until her teeth grazed bone, liquid and metallic blood spurting in her mouth. Valentine hissed, and slapped her across the face, probably leaving a bruise. The action was enough of a distraction that Sebastian had just enough time to roll and reach behind the center table and grab a sword, naming it under his breath. The blade lit up, and in seconds it was raised toward Valentine, who still held the furiously scrappy girl in his bleeding hands.

"What are you doing?" Jace almost screamed. "You are going to get her killed, you fucking idiot."

"The question is what are _you _doing Jace," Sebastian spit. "We're Shadowhunters. Clary is still a shadowhunter. Her duty is to the Clave, to humanity, snap the fuck out of it."

"Ah perhaps I was wrong then," Valentine chuckled. "One brother is a better of an actor when it comes to matters of the heart." He eyes wandered to where Jace stood. "I wonder which one really loves you – not that it matters however - since Sebastian's little stunt just caused you your life."

Clary tried not to scream again when he pulled the blade that still pierced her ribs rapidly out, and wedged it in again. This time she felt the organs it was hitting, the nausea building. She didn't have much time- she saw spots. Valentine muttered in Latin, and the portal mirror directly behind shimmered, like water had been poured over the glass. He began moving Clary backwards.

"I have a marvelous idea," Valentine said, pressing his lips in a fatherly kiss to Clary's hair. She nearly vomited. "Lets see which boy will follow our little whore into the portal, and which will stay and warn the Clave. Separate the hunter from the lover, what do you say darling?"

With that, Clary and Valentine fell back into the mirror, leaving both brothers standing before the already closing portal door. They looked briefly at each other, already knowing there really only was one option. Sebastian threw Jace the weapon, grabbed his own, and they both dived in blindly after their girl...

Shadowhunters dealt with horror. It was literally in their job description to kill, slaughter, torture, and terrify any creature that threatened humanity, threatened their way of life. They had seem more blood than any teenager ever should; they watched things burn alive, skin bubbling and popping in the flames. Jace and Sebastian had been trained to watch bones break, skin tear, and hear screaming from the time they knew how to ride bikes. They could handle seeing any form of torture.

What they couldn't handle – was seeing their girl still, as if death had already claimed her - and not knowing how it happened. As they stepped into the colossal arena, their eyes immediately dropped to a blood drenched form, lying limply in the middle of the barren marble floor. She wasn't breathing. A pool of metallic wine colored liquid circled her like a shrine.

"This was a trap, " Jace said aloud.

"Obviously," Sebastian breathed, moving toward the body. No, not the body – She was still Clary. She was alive. "But that didn't stop us, did it? We're both too stupid to do our jobs, isn't that right dad?"

Valentine chucked from behind them, his voice echoing through the coliseum-like towers surrounding the arena. The door behind him shut. The place looked ancient; like the place where gladiators fought and died. The columns had a chant written in Greek script – _two men enter, one man leaves. _Jace couldn't stand it anymore - he sprinted toward Clary. He needed to feel her pulse beneath her skin.

Within a yard of her however, he collided with a wall. It was literal, like a force pushing against his weight and making him fall back. "Clary!" He grunted, "breathe, god please breathe for me." He rammed it again and again with his shoulder, trying to break through. Clary still hadn't moved. She still wasn't breathing and her skin had taken a pale blue glow.

"She's not going to live," Valentine pointed out. "Well, unless you get her medical treatment in the next hour, which by the way isn't going to happen." Sebastian felt his blood boil, rage coating his every emotion. He ran at his mentor, coming from the side, slashing with vicious precision at his every opening. It was no use- Valentine was armed and ready. Sebastian and him sparred and flew at each other until their bodies were a blur, until the boy was thrown nearly thirty feet with the force of his mentors strike.

"This is foolish son," Valentine panted. Jace shoved at Clary's cage again, using all his body weight. "And you are wasting your time. Would you like to save her?"

"You're bluffing,"

"No, I'm offering a little arrangement." Valentine looked over at Clarissa and Jace, his face amused. "As it seems I was right, you are both enthralled by her. That seal around her is unbreakable Jace, it's under Fairy magic."

"Fairies?" Sebastian spit blood, closing in again. "They are working for you?"

"We do not work for anybody," a woman's voice answered, sounding bored. "Shadowhunters, you really only see black and white don't you? It's so primitive. I am merely here for sport, I do enjoy your human love triangles."

The Seelie queen materialized, her body stepping out of the column near Clary as though she had been a part of the furniture this whole time. She smelled like poison berries and stale wine. She dressed in a dress of black lace. She was attending a funeral.

"The queen is holding Clary in time for me," Valentine explained. "You see she has no pulse, no breath, as long as she is under the spell, so she will not die here until what I want has been finished."

"And what do you want?" Jace left Clary's side, meeting his brother in front of their nightmare. "Why have you brought us here if you were not going to let her die. Why not kill us as well?"

"Ah but that would not serve my purpose," his mentor smirked and circled the brothers, as if he were about to lecture them. "I want you to join me, all of you. But love has blinded you all from your powers, and it has made you weak. I want to teach you what love can do. Perhaps after you are stripped of your distractions, you will finally come to your senses."

"How are you going to 'teach' us?"

"We are going to play a game," The queen grinned, pearly white teeth glowing behind her lace veil. "_It will be as I say; my words are binding oath in this realm. Two brothers in love with a red haired maiden shall fight, for her heart- for her life. The battle will shed blood - the worthy will save their most desired. Valentine will not be let to intervene – that is my promise, but it will not end until a last breath is drawn by the blade of an angel's sword."_

"You want us to fight each other," Jace felt his teeth clench in disgust. He met Sebastian's eyes, only to see the rare vulnerability that only he and Clary knew- the hidden worry behind his stormy eyes. "That's the most – "

"And the winner get's to take Clary home?" Sebastian interrupted. "She lives, either way she escapes with one of us?" Jace stared at his brother. _You are seriously considering this_? He felt his blood heating, his body tensing for battle. "If one of us kills the other, you promise she goes free?"

"Love," The queen said seriously. "Real love will free the girl. Unselfish, quiet, passionate love."

"That's not an answer." Jace couldn't keep the venom out of his voice. Even in the midst of all this, he still felt the pang of hearing the word. He could love Clary, and he promised himself that if they lived through this, he's never stop showing her how much he loved her. But he couldn't kill his own flesh and blood, he thought. Not even for Clary. He couldn't . . .

Yet all the years of rivalry suddenly came flowing like a wind-storm through his heart. He was always responsible for Sebastian's messes, for cleaning up after a wrecked relationships, - and now he may have lost the one relationship he valued; because of him. He was consistently standing in between his brother and danger. Jace had saved their hides more times than he could count, and it was all because Sebastian acted on impulse. Jace's face throbbed where his brother had hit him. Ungrateful bastard.

Sebastian must have been thinking the same thing, because when their eyes locked in that instant, the hatred and repressed feelings colored their consciousness. The boys were seeing red.

Valentine grinned at the scene as his sons seethed in contempt for each other. They looked to Clarissa, breaking their resolve at the sight of her limp body and the halo of blood that entrapped her in the still sleeping cage.

"She has minutes left" the Queen offered in a bored voice. "I suggest you make your choice"

"For Clary." Jace drew his sword. Sebastian smiled lightly and drew his own, the metal singing against his sash. "Just promise me that if you win, that you will take care of her. She deserves so much better from this life."

"Don't worry little brother," Sebastian's voice gave way to no emotion. "When I win, she'll be in good hands."

"Cocky bastard."

"Ignorant asshole"

They nodded at each other, and with one last glance at the girl they fought to protect, the boys charged. Sebastian got the first swing, missing Jace's body by mere inches. Jace arched his body against the wall and recoiled like a viper, knocking his brother to the side. Something told him that his brother meant to miss. They looked for an escape, challenged each other's weakest points, grunting and tearing at flesh. Sebastian drew his second sword without warning, but Jace attacked with his whole body; and although he caused his wounds to deepen the metal flew across the room, landing between Valentine and Clary's body.

"Good move son" Valentine called, making Jace gag. Twisted fucker was enjoying this.

There was no other way to set her free. When Jace clipped his brother's ribs, he knew the pain must have been excruciating. Sebastian met his eyes, but there was no fear of death in them. He was a shadowhunter; and he was in love with Clary. Both men battled with their hearts – a lethal combination.

Blood stained their clothing, seeping and coating them like sweat. The adrenaline numbed the gash on Jace's forearm like Novocain – but he felt the end coming. They were panting, exhausted. But they were taught to kill, and they were not going to relent.

That was when Clary stirred, and lightly rolled to her side. Her eyes went wide at the scene of her best friends, gripping each other in battle unlike she had ever seen before. Sebastian was soaked in black ooze, and Jace; oh god he could barely hold his eyes open through the swollen wounds that poured through his vision. She could not feel her own body – all Clary felt, saw, cared about was them.

Her mind and body detached, and she recalled some memory, like s fragmented worn photograph – that this was because of her. Jace and Sebastian were fighting to save her. Her love for them swelled to knew proportions, her heart sang in pain and in joy all at one in a whirlwind of beauty. She would not let them die for her. They were her world; and she would not go on living without them. They were not going to die for her.

She would never survive it if she lost one of them.

Clary's eyes reached the sword, bloodstained and ever present before her. Valentine was enthralled in the battle, and the boys were too far-gone to see her move. The only person to take notice of her was the Queen, dressed in glowing red now, staring at her with jewel eyes. "_but it will not end until a last breath is drawn by the blade of an angel's sword,"_ she said into Clary's mind.

She knew what she had to do. Clary reached, blindly feeling the cold floor ignoring the feeling of her own blood under her fingernails and the scream that built in her chest when she tried to move her body. She was dying anyway – at least she could save _Them._

"_I love you"_ she whimpered in a silent prayer as the cold blade touched her chest bone. _"So much. This is for you."_

Sebastian saw her, but it was too late. "Clary NO!"

The blade went in like cutting butter, simply cracked as it ran through her breastplate. Clary didn't scream. She just sighed and fell, as if going back to a pleasant sleep.

Jace dropped to his knees, letting the roar of pain come out of his chest. Sebastian remained standing this time. He was in shock; and suddenly he couldn't feel the bloodlust to kill Jace any longer. The queens influence slipped off very suddenly the second Clarissa died.

"Valentine is gone." The Seelie queen said in the silence, stepping over Clary's body. "The girl did beautifully."

"Explain you vicious bitch, how is your game over?" Jace growled through his heart breaking, feeling like a literal shattering of glass in his chest. "What happened?"

"I told you love would free the girl," The queen sighed, feeling vacant and too bored to explain. "And it did. Her love for you was the key, not yours for her. And I said _the worthy will save their most desired – _And Clarissa certainly was worthy. Now that a_ last breath is drawn by the blade of an angel's sword, _I have finished my game. And amusing it was". She giggled.

"Oh God", Jace crawled on his knees like a child and cradled Clary's head in his lap. A tear rolled out of her eye, falling into his palm. "No, Clary baby you can't be gone, you can't, I need you here with me. There is so much I needed to tell you, you can't be dead please, please. . ."

"Yawn" The Queen turned on her stiletto to leave, when the tip of a sword clipped her perfect white neck. Sebastian glared at her; his voice as cold as death.

"Bring her back; you have the ability to. This place was under your spell, which means the souls that dwell here are under your ward. Bring Clary back, and you will get anything you desire. I promise you this."

The queen smiled, expecting this. She turned to Clarissa and removed the sword with a sickening clank as it exited her chest. Jace crumpled over the body as if to protect her, even in death. The queen strode over to Sebastian and whispered in his ear, handing him something as she spoke. Then she was gone, and the boys opened their eyes to the Institute library, surrounded by loose pieces of parchment.

"What did she say?" Jace felt his voice crackle through the words.

"She told me that she would be back, and that this wasn't over." Sebastian shook his head to clear it. "She said that Clary was not going to remember her life with us, and that it was her gift to the girl – to save her from heartache. She handed me a drawing of a rune. It will erase memories."

And lying there in silence, hunched over Clary's body, Jace felt the most amazing thing in the world. He felt Clary's lungs contract, and expand beneath his hands.

She was alive.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: IM back! Without further nonsense here's the rest:**

**I do not own Jace, Sebastian or anybody in Mortal Instruments**

**I dedicate this chapter to Piano Man**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**JPOV**

I couldn't look at Clary as I spoke; I couldn't face her eyes, her tears- her shattered heart. I kept my voice distant and succinct, pausing only to let Sebastian add parts that were from his perspective.

"We called your mother as soon as we knew everything was safe, and everyone rushed over here." Sebastian took a breath, knowing the next part wasn't his to tell. Neither was it mine. I raised my head and stared straight into Jocelyn's eyes.

She let out a shaky breath and stepped forward, taking Clary's hand in hers. I looked away, not needing to see her vulnerability. I was already fighting every instinct in my body to not grab hold of her, tug her into my lap, and tell her everything was going to be okay. I couldn't - Because it wasn't.

"Clary, baby . . ." Jocelyn began. "When I found you, there was barely enough blood in your body to keep you alive for an hour. You were severely wounded in six places, had four ruptured bones, and internal bruises. I took you straight to the hospital where your dad worked, not even considering seeking medical attention from the Clave. They council all shadowhunters - but I did not want to be a part of their world anymore, not seeing what their governmental idiocy caused. They put my own child in mortal danger, valuing information more than your life; _I couldn't Clary, _I couldn't let them touch our lives any longer, you have to understand..."

Clary said nothing.

"I refused the Claves request to allow them to attempt to restore your memories in order to find Valentine. They wanted to use you."

"They needed her," Sebastian barked. "Clary would have wanted to help the council find him. She was an adult by Shadowhunter laws, she should have been told what happened and asked to make the decision herself. Instead _you_ Jocelyn made her choice, even though Luke begged you to let Clary know. **You took her free will.** Not even Valentine did that."

"I was trying to keep my family safe," Jocelyn shrieked. Her hands dropped and she sank to the couch, cradling her head. "She had the a chance no other shadowhunter did – to live as a mortal, a mundane again. She was safe-"

"No, She wasn't". It was the first time Isabelle had spoken, and we all startled at her unexpected voice. "Even with the glamour and the erased memories, you kept seeing demons Clary." She walked over to her friends still form and hugged her gently, offering what none of us could. "You were born to see demons and kill them, and the Seelie queen repeatedly tried to expose you. Sometimes when we couldn't intervene, you saw them - Sometimes, you remembered who you were. You fought demons, sometimes coming out if it with wounds. Every time you did, your mom took your memories."

"To protect her!" Jocelyn whimpered.

Clary said nothing.

"Your mother used the memory rune the queen gave Sebastian, and wrote off your erratic behavior and black outs as signs of cocaine overdose." My voice was dead. I was callously honest, because she needed to hear this. "Your parents fought over your mothers selfish choices, and kept you restrained and punished when you left because they feared you would remember. Denouncing the Clave meant your hospital bills were left to your family, and Sebastian and I were forbidden to see you . . . Until the monsters were too much for Isabelle and Alec to handle. "

I had not told anyone about the queen's visit tonight: because I needed to think this through. If Jocelyn knew that the queen was back, and that Valentine was close, it would mean we would have to hide Clarissa again, possibly erase more of her memory than ever. Sebastian and I would never see her again, considering we were doomed to fight to the death for her agai. History was repeating itself.

All eyes were on Clary now, even mine. I reluctantly looked at her – and saw exactly what I feared. Her green eyes were swimming in tears, but her face was blank; it was as though she did not even know she was crying or feeling pain. Clary looked numb. She looked dead.

How was I supposed to leave her? I knew only that I loved Clarissa, so much that I was willing to kill my own brother to save her. Before, when the game was played, I did not think I could have killed Sebastian. I was young, torn from the emotion of the battle and the realization that my best friend loved me . . . But I did not understand myself. I did not know the extent of my love for Clary until she died in my arms that night, and since then I have known that I would do anything, _**anything**__,_ to keep her.

Sebastian, I added grudgingly, loved her the same. This time around we would kill one another. No one outside of us would know. I decided to wait until we were alone to tell him that the queen had returned, promising to finish what she started. This time, we would fight for real – but not for blood.

This time we would fight for Clary's heart.

Silence continued and time began to stretch uncomfortably slowly as we waited for Clary to break down. Some looked as though she were a dangerous animal, preparing to move if she attacked or screamed inhumanly. Others, like Sebastian and I, knew exactly how Clary would react.

She looked at every person in the room in turn, and then dropped her gaze to her own chest. Lightly, silently, she raised her shirt to expose the white cream flesh of her ribs, and touched the dent where Valentine had stabbed her. She closed her eyes, and tears dropped onto her skin, outlining the uneven scar.

She sighed, and walked out the door without a single word, into the world she no longer knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**CPOV**

I wandered through the corridors of the institute slowly, and found myself in front of a mirror facing the left wing. I touched my face, surprised I had been crying. The tears were real, wet, and hot on my cheek. I must be alive if I am able to cry, right?

"I thought corpses were uglier." I only registered saying the words aloud a minute after saying them. Or maybe it was an hour. What did time matter if I was dead anyway – I was on borrowed time, breathing only because it entertained some woman I didn't know. It wasn't a gift to be alive - it was a joke.

I thought I was normal.

Everyday I followed a routine, exactly like any teenager. Waking up for school, going to classes, sitting with Izzy and Simon in the commons, doing homework, eating brussel sprouts. My family discord wasn't even farfetched – a lot of teens deal with loss of freedom. I thought I was just another adolescent, fighting for attention, demanding respect, and screwing up. My thoughts were whispers, too weak and bruised to gain coherency – but they concluded one thing.

I was dead.

I took a cab home, paying the driver without even looking at the tab. I walked up the steps carrying my dead weight through the drizzling rain, letting the moisture cool my face. The sun was rising over the horizon of New York, a new day beginning. Everything felt very real. I wanted to go numb again, just for a little while.

Luke was on the couch watching Jeopardy when I walked in, one leg hoisted on the cushion, the other dangling off. He had his scrubs on, and looked as though he simply collapsed after his shift. (Well, after grabbing the whiskey off the counter of course). The kids were still sound asleep when I checked on them. Somehow, seeing my siblings innocently curled up in their beds broke me further, and I knew what I wanted.

"You're home late." Luke grunted, his eyes barely open. "Does your mom know where you are?"

"I . . ." I croaked and cleared my throat. "I had a long night, but I saw mom a while ago." I didn't want to name the place I had been, or think about my night. "Luke?"

"Yeah Clary?"

I looked at him and sighed. "I need a drink."

Before he could respond I walked over to the counter and poured myself a cup of coffee, leaving room on top. I sat down beside my stepfather and handed it to him. I will never know what he saw in my face that morning, but he lifted the whiskey and filled the rest of the cup without a comment. Luke numbed his pain – his daily marathon of bullshit; paying for my mothers mistakes. I numbed the pain - knowing I would never be the same, and promising myself that tomorrow, I would make it all alright again.

Billy Joel once wrote in his classic, Piano Man "_t__hey're sharing a drink they call loneliness /_

_But it's better than drinkin' alone."_

So Luke comforted me in the only way he knew how, and cradled my head in his lap after I couldn't stand anymore. I would wake up in my room thirteen hours later to a setting sun, tucked in and dressed in pajamas, nursing my still beating heart.

I dressed slowly, slipping on a light green blouse and jeans. I tied my hair back meticulously – making silent decisions before stepping out into the living room where my mother waited. I couldn't look at her yet.

"I am going to see Sebastian and Jace," I said, pausing at the doorway. "Don't wait up."

"Clary you are not allowed –" she began, but my piercing stare stopped her retort in its tracks.

"Save it for someone who gives a fuck, mom."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**SEBASTIAN POV**

I was staring intently at the Peanut Butter container, avoiding every single one of Isabelle's comments on Jace's practically "outing" our whole situation. I wanted to point out that there were far more applicable ways the term "outing" could be used in regards to my overly fashionable brother, but that would mean I would have to talk to her.

So I continued to stare at Peanut Butter.

Eventually, realizing I would not acknowledge she existed as long as she ranted about things that could not be helped – Izzy plopped down beside me in exasperation. I smiled to myself, loving the fact that I won again.

"Well, at least tell me what is so vitally interesting about that container that you decided it was worth your undivided attention. I swear you could be a mime."

"Mimes are creepy." I pointed out, handing Isabelle the jar. "And the back says 'warning; may contain peanuts.' I feel like the Peanut Butter company should figure that one out for sure."

Isabelle snorted, and started laughing in her signature way. She had a hissing, snake like laugh that turned into an inaudible chuckle if you really had her going. But it took a man of real talent - and if I should say so my self, devil-may-care sex appeal – to get that one out of her.

Luckily I was just that man.

I was not a conceited person, I just happened to know how handsome I was, and used that to my advantage. For example – on days like last night – when someone I care deeply about, faced a painful truth, and everyone that loved her must dealt with the consequences of causing her that pain. Jace fucked up, but I couldn't blame him for revealing what Clary needed to know. Even so, I could still hate him for it.

The person in question entered the kitchen just then, and Isabelle promptly stopped laughing. Jace was tall, blond, and broody – and frankly I couldn't see his appeal. I would never have admitted how much I loathed that Clary had expressed herself to him instead of me. I didn't understand what she saw in him. She should have loved me.

"Izzy, do you mind leaving? I need to speak to my brother" Jace said. His voice gave away nothing, but Isabelle startled at the suddenly tense atmosphere of the otherwise happy kitchen.

"Sure . . . uh I guess." Izzy shot me a glance and raised her eyebrow. I rolled my eyes and blew her a kiss.

"What's got your lace panties in a bunch, brother dear?" I batted eyes lovingly.

"We need to talk."

"Oh are you breaking up with me now?" I chuckled. I expected Jace to comment, banter with me as he normally would – but something was off. His next words grounded me right back to earth.

"I saw the Queen." He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is why I called the meeting. She spoke to Clary - She said she was back to finish the game. If Clary doesn't choose one of us, then we will have to fight again."

"Shit..." I breathed. "Why didn't you tell us before? Maybe this is a play on words, like last time . . . ?"

"This time, she wasn't unclear. She said, 'One brother will kill the other, and one will die of a broken heart.'" Jace sighed, and met my eyes. He ran a hand through his hair. "You know what this means?"

I dropped my arm to the hilt of my belt, and grasped my knife. If he was here to fight, I was not going to be unprepared – My feelings for Clary rivaled his tenfold. If there were a chance she would be mine, I would take it. My animal nature produced a low growl in my throat at the thought.

"No," he said sharply, backing away. "Not this time. If we are going to play her game, than lets do it the way it was intended."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"We make Clary choose," he smiled. "I can't stay away from her, and neither can you. So we let Clary decide who she wants, and the Queen will get what she wants. If we killed one another Clary would never want to see either one of us again - knowing we played right into Valentine's game again. That is why we do this fairly, fight for her love this time – and tell Clarissa nothing."

"But doesn't she already know?" I shook my head. "Clary was with you when you saw the queen. She knows we will be manipulating her feelings."

Jace thought for a moment. "We tell her that we have a plan, and that everything will be alright when we kill Valentine once and for all. The queen will leave us alone."

"You know that won't happen, even if Valentine dies."

"I know – But Clary doesn't. I know you love her too. This way, even if the queen is right, she will be happy." Jace smiled. "It's what you want to isn't it?"

To that I had no response. I dropped my knife and squeezed my eyes shut, muttering to myself. _As long as Clary is happy,_ I reasoned. _She is what matters - All for her._ I extended my hand, and my brother shook it. Game. On.

Barely seconds later, the doorbell of the institute rang, and Church ran up to Jace and me, indicating it was for us. Goddamn cat knew everything.

We looked at one another and shrugged, guessing it was Alec here to pick up Isabelle or something. It was raining hard out, the noise of the storm hitting the roof urgently. I grabbed a towel from the kitchen on my way in case Alec was soaked and needed to dry off his perfectly gelled hair again. He was a very well groomed prick.

Jace threw open the door, and I dropped the towel. Clary stood in the rain, her little body quivering in the rain making the fabric of her emerald shirt glisten ad stick to her shape. The rain had soaked through her shirt and it became apparent that she had not worn a bra tonight. I gulped.

"C-c-can I come in?" She asked, as both Jace and I gaped at her sensual appearance. We stepped aside, and she touched both of us on her way it, turning around in all her glory to face us in the hall. Her jeans were holding on to her in all the right places.

"You told me why and how I forgot," she said, covering her breasts form view _thank god. "_Now . . . I want you to tell me **what** I forgot." She tilted her head slightly and all her strawberry and rose locks fell to the side.

"Boys," she whispered. "Can I stay the night?"


End file.
